


Retribution

by aliceslantern



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Existential Crisis, F/M, Found Family, Lowkey porn with a plot, M/M, ienzo is a disaster, post ReMind, spoilers for remind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:39:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 47,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22791112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliceslantern/pseuds/aliceslantern
Summary: Newly a person again, Ienzo is weighed down by guilt and his humanity. He's prepared to do whatever it takes to atone... only to find unexpected solace in a familiar face. With more insight into the bonds between people than ever before, Ienzo reaches for a dangerous element from the past to help Kairi and Riku in their search for Sora. What is his life if it means saving another, brighter light?
Relationships: Aeleus & Ienzo (Kingdom Hearts), Ansem the Wise | DiZ & Ienzo, Demyx/Ienzo (Kingdom Hearts), Demyx/Zexion (Kingdom Hearts), Even & Ienzo (Kingdom Hearts), Ienzo & Kairi (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

Kairi woke up slowly. “Anything?” she asked, before her eyes had even focused.

Ienzo sighed. “I’m afraid not.” He began detaching her from the monitors.

Her own sigh was heavy, derelict. She sat up, rolling her shoulders, stretching. They woke her every five days--to be unconscious for so long was inhumane, good neither for her body or mind. Not good for them either, to work so constantly, but Ienzo cared less about this. 

“It isn’t easy, to trace a heart,” he added. “We’re all working as hard as we can--but it’s beyond nebulous, beyond, even, theory.”

“I know,” she said. She smoothed her short hair. “I just… I thought I would feel him. I… don’t.” She forced a smile. 

“I sincerely wish I had better news,” he said. More than a little harrowing, to see her moroseness. 

“I know you’re doing your best,” she said. She stood, a bit shakily. She nodded once. “I’m going to go clean up. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Ienzo watched her leave, feeling a bit dazed. He set down his tablet, smoothed the chair where she slept. His eyes ached.

“...You woke her on your own?” Even asked. He’d gone out for some books. “I’d hoped to check her vitals.”

“She’s stable. Like she always is. I  _ was  _ trained in first aid, you know.”

Even rolled his eyes. “Did she ask again?”

“She always does.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how much longer we can reasonably pursue this. There--continues to be  _ nothing. _ ” A thin, needy pain bloomed between his eyes; he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“...You look like  _ you _ should be the one sleeping.”

“You’re likely right. There were some things I’d hoped to check on. I’d best do so before--”

Even frowned. “Her break in sleep functions as a break for us, too. You need rest to do good work.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” he remarked. “When was the last time  _ you _ slept, Even?”

He scowled. “Go on, then, boy.”

Ienzo  _ did _ feel more than a little shaky. Human physicality was so brutal, so constantly needy, all the time; his body felt very nearly alien. He made his way back towards his own bedroom. The ache in his head wasn’t getting any better.

“Freed you at last, huh, Zo?”

He almost groaned. It was  _ much _ harder to squirrel himself away now, that was for sure. “...I see your day is done early as well.”  _ This _ was certainly a variable he had not planned for, living here once more. 

Demyx shrugged. “No more deliveries. I could just sit there, but why?”

After Xehanort’s death, the other boy had nowhere to go and nothing to do; evidently he’d found some satisfaction out of bringing Ienzo the vessels, as he now worked for Scrooge McDuck as a courier. It kept him mostly out of Ienzo’s hair, which was good. Convincing him to become human again had been… exhausting, but at least now there was assuredly no more bits of Xehanort. “...I see.” Small talk had never been his forte, and given his tiredness was the last thing he wanted to subject himself to. 

Demyx stared at him. “All good over there?”

His interest in Ienzo’s work was disorienting. “The usual, I suppose.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “That sucks.”

Ienzo shrugged. He was right, which was the irritating thing. 

“I guess she’s up and about, then? I should say hey.”

“If you like. She might like some company.”

Demyx didn’t notice the sarcasm; or else didn’t comment on it. “Awesome. See you around, Zo.”

Ienzo just shook his head. “Zo” was a vast improvement over “Zexy”, but he still did not care for Demyx’s nicknames. It had taken the boy long enough to stop calling him Zexion.

(If he were being honest, he still made the same mistake, especially writing his own reports--his fingers would hover over that Z key for longer than they should.)

He went into his bedroom. It wasn’t a large space, not helped by the clutter--books, more for research than for enjoyment, were piled around his desk. He should at the very least take the ones he no longer needed back to the library, but the library was still such a disaster. Relics of his childhood were here and there; the tapestry of constellations, storybooks gathering dust on the overpacked cherry bookshelf, a few moldering stuffed animals sitting in a box. He had no idea what to do with these things. All he knew was that looking at them made him feel vaguely ill. He shed his labcoat, loosened the ascot at his throat. He perched on the mattress and ran his fingers over the stitching of the old quilt, trying to orient himself, to prepare himself for the labor of sleep. Ienzo could feel how badly he needed it, much more acutely than he ever did as Zexion. But his mind was spinning--with disappointment, with the sickness of looking at his old things, with memories that wanted to come, with these heavy feelings. 

Perhaps a bath might help? A bath and a trashy novel?

It was still… odd, to see himself in mirrors. Generally he tried to avoid it, but it was not always possible. He shuddered a little as his fingers brushed the scar around his throat. Most unbecoming. Religious application of scar cream didn’t improve things, but at least the color was no longer such a vivid violet. 

He settled into the warm water. On a physiological level it  _ was _ soothing, but the second he started to relax the thoughts invaded--wasn’t this so self-indulgent? He should be downstairs, right now, analyzing the data they’d gathered from this week of Kairi’s sleep. At the very least logging things, drafting a report. Reconnecting with Ansem and the others, to see what  _ they’d _ found.

His breath, in the tiled space, seemed loud. 

Dealing with them should not be difficult. But all he could think when he saw them was  _ they told me you’d gone mad. _ He grimaced. This wasn’t helping. Maybe some chamomile?

(A stiff drink? Or a sedative?)

He bathed, because he was already here. His skin was weirdly raw, oddly sensitive to everything. It had been when he was a child, but he figured he’d have outgrown such issues. It felt like everything was scraping along his nerves. He put on a soft sweater, slacks (his body would not physically allow him to wear denim. It was extremely irritating). Tried to fix his hair, which continued to grow directly into his eyes despite best efforts. He’d considered cutting it, letting it all go, but likely that would be a shock to himself as well. 

Would eating help? He was feeling dizzy. Blood sugar, maybe? Hard to tell.  _ Just tell me what you want _ , he thought, towards his body.  _ Enough of this vague aching. _

He heated some soup Aeleus had made, forced it all down. Nope, that didn’t help. Was he legitimately ill? He could ask Even, who was indeed a medical doctor as well as a researcher, but frankly he’d rather just deal with it on his own. 

“Hello, Ienzo.”

He jumped a little, despite himself. “Oh… hello, Master.”

“I noticed Kairi was awake.”

“...We were rapidly getting nowhere. I figured no reason to keep her asleep if we were getting nothing done. She had expressed interest in doing some visiting. She should. It’s summer, and she’s sixteen. Might as well enjoy it.” He was rambling. 

“Why shouldn’t you?”

Ienzo scoffed. “More pressing things on my plate than  _ socializing. _ ” He could hardly stand talking to Demyx, much less anyone else. 

“These breaks are for us, too.”

“...Even said the same thing.”

Ienzo did get some pleasure from the spark of anger that entered his eyes at the name. “You should at the very least get some sunlight. When was the last time you left this castle?”

He thought about it. “We did need groceries a few days ago.”

“Other than that.”

Ienzo was drawing a blank. He bristled a little. “What of you?”

Ansem chuckled. “...Quite. I believe we’ve all been… engrossed.”

“I wish I felt like I were getting somewhere. Seeing the disappointment in her eyes every time she wakes up… is taxing.” He shook his head. “I’m trying to help, to be of use, but we…” Ienzo trailed off uselessly. 

“Might I sit with you?”

“...If you like.”

Ansem joined him at the small oak table. It was still so odd, to talk to him after such a long period of separation. That Ansem  _ forgave _ him was staggering. “How are you faring?”

“...A loaded question.”

He smiled. “I do hope you don’t forget you’re  _ also _ a young person.”

“Oh, I never was.” He shrugged. “Old soul. So I’ve been told.”

“...You deserve to enjoy your life too.”

Ienzo snorted.

“Why is it you react this way?”

“After all the suffering I’ve wrought?” He raised an eyebrow. “The least I can do is try to help Sora, and the committee.”

“No need for you to also suffer.”

He laughed a little. “I’m not suffering.”

Ansem gave him a look that suggested he was full of it. “You struggle, Ienzo. I can just tell.”

He pursed his lips. “You needn’t concern yourself with me. I’m sure you have other things to worry about.”

“I’m not allowed to worry about you?”

“Well you needn’t waste your energy.”

Ansem blinked. “I’m aware we’ve… lost time we’ll never get back,” he said slowly. “But I do wish to repair our relationship, such as it is.”

More baffling yet. “Why?”

“Why?” He repeated. “Ienzo, you’re my son.”

“I  _ was _ .”

“...A bond that only ended through no machinations of your own.” He reached over to take Ienzo’s hand; he flinched, the touch unexpected and unanticipated. 

“How can you even bear to look at me?”

“You asked for none of this.”

Ienzo could feel something rising within him, heat building behind his already aching eyes. He regretted eating; it felt as though it may come up. “Didn’t I? I  _ asked _ to do those experiments--”

“--Because Xehanort manipulated you into thinking it was your idea.” Ansem’s rust-colored eyes bore into his. “Because you were a child and wanted to please those around you.”

“What about everything that happened after?” The blood was hot in his face, the toxic slurry of emotion making him nauseous. “When I was older? When I should have known better?”

“You grew up with no heart. No conscience, no bonds with others. How were you to--”

“My actions killed people.” He stood up. “I am no innocent victim, Master. Who do you think was the Organization’s tactician?”

Ansem seemed to not know what to say.

“All those puzzles you taught me to love. Do you think I wouldn’t use that? People were pieces to me. Pawns. How am I any better than Xehanort?” He took a breath; the air was hot. “I need to take my leave.”

“Ienzo--”

He was already moving. He felt it coming at him like a wave, sticky, itchy and impossible to reckon with. Guilt like rivers, like oceans, making his heart race and his palms sweat. He couldn’t be of use if he fell apart. He couldn’t fall apart. Couldn’t.  _ Get it together. _ He repeated it, almost like a mantra.  _ Get it together. _

“...Zo?”

Ienzo almost swore out loud. The  _ last _ person he wanted to see. “Can I help you?” he asked. 

“You look--”

Ienzo narrowed his eyes, daring him to say something.

“...Tired,” Demyx settled on.

“Yes, I am very tired,” he said. “I should like to get some rest. If it’s all the same.”

“I mean, sure, but…” He bit his lip. “Is there… anything I can do? For you?”

His eyebrows shot up. 

“You just seem kinda overwhelmed and I--”

“Thank you, Demyx, but I do not need your help.” He scowled. 

“Oh… okay.” Demyx bit his lip. “Well… get some sleep.” He tried to inject some cheer into his voice, but it fell flat.

"...I shall certainly try." His headache was only worsening. He limped back towards his bedroom and lay down, pulling the covers around himself. He tried to breathe, slowly, evenly, to lower his heart rate. It wasn't  _ quite _ dark, but he needed to at the very least try to sleep, despite guilt, despite everything. 

Ienzo counted his breath. He told himself stories, recalling novels from memory. Finally, finally… he drifted into an uncertain sleep.

There was a reason Ienzo avoided rest.

The memories, even in unconsciousness, constantly invaded. Tonight's choice? His very own death, the sensation of the replica's glove closing around his windpipe, darkness holding Zexion firm, unable to slink away or fight. Sharpness cutting into his throat, feeling draining out of his body--

Ienzo jolted up, breathing hard. The panic was familiar at this point, but no less painful. He tried to push through it, counting all the items in the room, but his hand had snapped up to his scar.

_ It's no less than what I deserve. _

He was feeling nauseous now. He sat up slowly, checked the alarm clock at his bedside--he'd only managed a few hours, but now it was dark out. There was heat in his eyes.

_ Cry if you must, and get it over with. _

Ienzo rocked slowly, in an attempt to self-soothe. He felt the dampness on his face, humiliation breaking over him in a wave. It was like purging; emptying the tears from his body. At least, he tried to think of it that way. 

Eyes raw, he lay back down, hoping that was enough, but it wasn't. It was clear he would get no peace tonight. He exhaled heavily, got up, put his lab coat back on, and headed back downstairs.

At least, if it were this late, he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone other than himself. He sat in front of that computer screen for a long time, trying to put the pieces together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo believes his powers may be the key to finding Sora's heart.

What made a heart?

Ienzo's head was aching again. It’d been years, truly, since he’d been a scholar of it, as he’d told Sora. Seeing the annals of their old research--and all the implications therein--wasn’t helping. Truly, after all that had happened, they understood almost nothing--but they understood more than the guardians, which was why they were useful.

He had a heart, now.

The rush of trying to find a body for Roxas had left him with little time to consider the impacts of being Ienzo. The tides of emotion, as much as he tried to keep them at bay, were always threatening him. He didn’t have time to drown, to fall apart--nor did he want to. Being here was humiliating enough. 

The neophytes had all wanted hearts, humanity, in the Organization days. But Zexion hadn’t, not for a heartbeat (ha ha). A Nobody’s mind, for him, had been largely stabilizing--he had the wherewithal to realize that now. It tamped down on the ever-present anxiety, reduced the ache of old traumas. Let him think clearly, cleanly.

Let him commit atrocities.

Was this who he really was, below it all? True, without a heart one was unfettered by inhibitions, societal expectations. Secondly, he’d been completely focused on the morally good since he woke. The committee. Sora. Stopping Xehanort, the one who pushed him onto this path.

Ienzo looked to his left, to the sealed door that led down to their labs. Nobody had the gall to go down there since. Almost as if possessed, he stood slowly, walked over to the keypad, and laid his hand on it. Considering his radical change in size, it didn’t read the palmprint, so instead he was forced to manually type in the numbers--something he did almost with muscle memory.

Why was he doing this? What answers would he find? Perhaps some paper reports which could be of use? 

(At least, this was what he told himself.)

Ienzo took a deep breath. Took two. He held out his hand and called for the lexicon.

None of the others here, save Demyx, had access to their weapons. One had to be very closely bonded with that essence of the self for it to remain. Considering he’d had it twelve years, it was only suitable he had it still. This object, on its own, was purely neutral. But unlike Demyx’s sitar, it had changed shape, color; no longer that deep sage green but a sort of lavender, the Nobody insignia replaced with a heart. His psyche was more than a little literal, which was disappointing.

But Ienzo’s magic was limited. Gone were the days of intense, gorgeous spellwork, complex illusions. He was stuck with the same arsenal as any Joe or Jane on the street, reduced from a powerful mage to someone who was exhausted by second-tier spells. 

Down here, he may need to defend himself.

He turned on his gummiphone’s flashlight, set it in his pocket. The white light was cold. Power still ran down here, though more so in an emergency capacity. He walked down, and down, and down that ramp, dreading the walk up, because to his newly-weakened form, it was bound to be exhausting.

What was he looking to find?

There was no darkness here anymore. The basement was just a basement, and the only smell that existed was must and likely mold. He realized he was breathing hard. A thin film of memory played over his consciousness; talking with their victims, as a child, manipulating them into revealing information which would promptly be used to break them. It took little to make or break a heart.

Worse, he remembered such manipulations giving him a sort of pleasure. Not much had come easily to him as a child, and he was praised endlessly for this work, a praise which bolstered his anxiety.

Was it really Xehanort that made him this? He tried to think. There had been a time when he, as a young man, insisted on spending time with Ienzo, playing endless games of chess (which Ienzo had hated, and still did). In between this, he  _ did _ recall Xehanort asking him to speak to Ansem regarding the construction of this very lab. As his son, Ienzo held an enormous influence over the king.  _ Ask him for the world, and he’ll give it to you on a string _ , Xehanort had said, his voice like gravel.  _ This is for the greater good. _

He scoffed aloud. All it did was wreak a legacy of suffering all the World over. How many worlds had fallen? How many people had simply died? He didn’t even know.

Ienzo took another breath and faced the lab. The containment cells were all the same as he remembered, some of them having gouge marks in the floor from their victims’ transformations. Stuffing of mattresses everywhere, mirrors shattered.

He was not here to gawk. He was here to gather data. He forced himself to walk past all these rooms towards the offices.

The place was a wreck, papers scattered and torn everywhere. He knelt and began sweeping them together. He should’ve brought a bag; there was no way he could read it all quickly enough for it to enter the lexicon.

Behind him he heard something like a whisper. Ienzo turned and saw the Heartless, its gold eyes bulging. He groaned. Heartless were much fewer than they used to be, but that didn’t mean they were  _ gone. _ Darkness, after all, still existed. Slowly, he stood. “Alright,” he muttered. “Let’s see what I can still do.”

Fira and Thundara seemed to do nothing to the Novashadow’s defenses; all it did was make the creature angry. It hissed and scrambled towards him. What a stupid room to cast a spell in; Ienzo would have to pass it to get through the only exit.  _ So much for being a master tactician. Even an idiot wouldn’t make this mistake.  _ He tried to launch a Stopra spell at it, but all it did was slow it down.  _ Is my magic really this terrible, or is this thing just bizarrely strong? _ He had no clue. He tried to force his way past it, but its claw scratched his left arm, grabbing it. The grip felt more human than what Heartless were capable of, and Ienzo’s adrenaline-addled mind made the connection.

Not all of their victims had burrowed into the realm of darkness. This one had been watching--waiting, for this precise moment to seek revenge. He tried to pull his arm free, but all this did was slice into it further, a heavy edge of pain making everything dull. He chanced another spell, pulling hard within himself for a third-tier. The Firaga made it possible to free his body, and he ran, blood loss making him woozy; using such a powerful spell only worsened it. He had maybe one or two spells left before he risked knocking himself unconscious, and he had to use one to heal his wounds.

Ienzo was weaker than Zexion in more than one way. Zexion had never been physically strong, but he’d at the very least been in shape, able to comfortably run for long periods of time. Ienzo was an academic who was sedentary most of the time. His lungs seemed to burn as he tried to make his way up the ramp. Adrenaline could only help so much. The Heartless scrambled after him. He could see the door.  _ A bit more. If you don’t do this you will die. _

(Would that be such a bad thing?)

He made it at last, sealing the door shut behind him and hearing the Heartless beat and wail against the metal, which had been made to contain darkness (this had happened before, during those days). He dropped to his knees. It hurt to breathe, his vision swarming with dots.

Ienzo realized he was still bleeding. He’d healed his arm, but the Heartless had gotten more than his arm; it had punctured his side, and only now did he feel the pain. The wound didn’t look infected with darkness, but that didn’t matter. He pressed his hand against the wound in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding. That had been more than careless; it was reckless. If he didn’t get help soon he’d likely bleed out.

Which would mean confessing this stupidity. He groaned. He reached for his gummiphone. The dizziness was only worsening. Without dark corridors, it would take someone at least fifteen minutes to walk to him, time he might not have.

How fragile people really are, he thought woozily. He tried to slip off his lab coat for better padding, but this meant he had to let go of the pressure on his side, and the sight of his own blood caused him to quite literally swoon. He held the cloth against the wound and lay down. He dialed Even and heard the line ringing emptily into space.

_ Pick up, bastard.  _ But the line kept ringing.  _ So much for promising to protect me.  _ Who could Even be calling at this hour? Did he want to know?

Ienzo was losing time, and he suspected, consciousness.  _ What a righteously stupid way to die, _ he thought.

* * *

Something wet and cold was dumped onto his side. He flinched, treading awareness. Even had finally come. But the voice Ienzo heard wasn’t his.

“Ienzo? Can you hear me?”

A jolt of adrenaline and memory forced his eyes open, and his hand snapped up to his throat. 

Riku was crouching over him, an empty potion bottle in one hand. The boy’s brows were furrowed in concern.

“When did you get here?” he said dazedly.

“Not more than a few minutes ago--the time differences. I didn’t realize it would be the middle of the night. But none of that matters. What happened to you?”

Ienzo tried to sit up, but Riku forced him down.

“Let the potion finish working. Drink this.” He was handed another. “You really bled a lot.”

He did so. “I suppose I should thank you.” Humiliation broke through his haze. 

“Did someone attack you? What were you doing down here, by yourself, at night?”

He scowled despite himself. It was galling to be told off by someone younger than him. “In a manner of speaking.”

He nodded. “Heartless.”

“Isn’t it always.” The potion tasted oily, slimy, but it was making things clearer. “My magic… was not sufficient. I’m quite a lot weaker than the person you faced those months ago.”

Riku was clearly not expecting him to bring that up; his eyebrows shot up. 

“I know we agreed to start over… forgive me.”

“It’s okay.” Wound closed, Riku eased him into a sitting position. Ienzo noted with irritation that his own clothes were soaked in blood. “Well, you’re lucky I got here when I did.”

“...This looks like a scene from a tawdry horror novel,” he agreed, wrinkling his nose. He sighed. “Thank you. Truly.” He wished he felt grateful, but mostly Ienzo felt annoyed. 

“Least I can do. You’re all working so hard to find Sora--which is more than what I can do right now.”

““Least I can…”” Ienzo repeated. “More like this is the least  _ I _ can do, after all that. I wish I had good news for you. I’ve been trying almost everything--” Perhaps it was his own vertigo, perhaps it was the thought of Castle Oblivion, but Ienzo thought he felt the beginnings of an idea.

An idea which might help them find Sora.  An insane, potentially lethal idea.

“Riku.” He swallowed. “Perhaps your appearance was more than a little fortuitous.”

“Well, we can talk about it in the morning. You’re still weak. You should get to bed.”

“First there’s the matter of--all this.” He gestured to the blood. “I’d have a  _ lot _ of explaining to do if I merely left it.”

“...You’re pretty level-headed, all things considering.”

Ienzo shrugged. “Must be. I’m sorry this is how you found me. Not very flattering, is it?”

He chuckled. “I guess not.” Riku helped him to his feet. Ienzo nearly fainted again, and while he stayed standing, his eyes must have rolled, because Riku continued, “I should take you.”

“I’ll be fine.” His knees were shaking. 

“You lost a lot of blood. Cure and a potion can’t completely fix that.” 

“I’m sure you’re tired from travelling--”

“Think I can stay awake long enough to get you home.” He used a water spell to mop up the mess; they both watched the blood vanish into nothing. “Come on.”

Ienzo hated to admit it, but he was grateful for Riku’s presence; he was rather faint, a combination of exhaustion and blood loss making him feel a bit giddy. 

“You’ll have to tell me where it is. I can’t remember.”

“Made all the harder by all the collapsed passes. No matter. I could find my way there in my sleep--I practically have.” He shook his head. “I’m sure Kairi will be grateful to see you, regardless of how late it is.”

“...How is she?”

Ienzo tried to think. “Physically well. Mentally exhausted. This is all taking a bit of a toll on her--not that I can blame her. I’m not sure which is worse--to lose all that time sleeping, or to be repeatedly woken to find out it’s been in vain.”

“...It’s early yet. It took Sora a year to recover his memories--it might take a little more than a month to find him.” His tone had darkened. “He’ll come back when he’s meant to. We just have to call out to him.”

“I do not… know him very well, but it pains me, to have him go through all that and then not be able to enjoy the hard-won peace.”

Riku sighed. “You’re telling me,” he said, with a shake of his head. “I used to hate my home… now I want nothing more than to go back to it with the two of them. I think I’ve had enough adventure for one lifetime.”

His droll tone made Ienzo smile. “Quite.”

“We’ve got time, relatively speaking,” Riku said. “You, me. Sora and Kairi. We’ve got the rest of our lives. What’s a little more waiting?”

“I suppose that is wise.”

They made it at last. Ienzo told Riku where he could find Kairi, where a spare room could be found for his own rest. He bathed again, to get off the vestiges of the blood and potion, and forced down a pint of juice, despite its bristling sweetness. He set aside his clothing for disposal in the morning. The only good thing about this injury was that it allowed him to sleep deeply, and without dreams, and he woke up disoriented a little before noon.

Ienzo could not remember the last time he’d slept eight consecutive hours--maybe he never had. He still felt dizzy, but a bit better. He really should spend the day resting and recuperating, but that spark of an idea was starting to burn brighter. He was not even sure it was  _ possible _ , but if it was, it might solve all their problems. He had to go to the libraries and see what he could find.

He dumped his soiled clothing into the trash incinerator.

“Zo! Sleeping in, I see. Feels good, right?”

Ienzo flinched. He tried to remind himself to  _ be pleasant. _ His handful of sleep helped. “Last night was a late one,” he admitted vaguely. 

Demyx smiled. “You guys all work way too hard. Not good for you.”

Ienzo tried to smother the flicker of irritation. “Well, I’m afraid our leisure time must take a backseat to our work.”

He shook his head. “Hey, listen, I work hard now too. Just ask the boss.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really do!” Demyx said. “But, it’s like, you have to take care of yourself. Or else--” He blew a raspberry and waved his hand. “Sora… wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground.”

Several thoughts flitted through Ienzo’s mind, but all he could think to say was, “Why is it you care?” Even in this new phase of their lives, Ienzo hadn’t exactly been warm. 

He dropped his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, we’re roomies, right?”

““Roomies.”” He shook his head. 

“And… I don’t know, do we have to be ride or die for me to care whether or not you… die?” He flinched at his own language. “I’m a person now. Empathy, blah blah.”

Ienzo realized too slowly that Demyx was likely reeling from this new life just as he was. “That’s sweet of you,” he said.

He frowned. “Hey, I’m trying to be nice.”

“I’m being perfectly genuine.” It felt odd. “I know I’ve been…” He trailed off.

“All over the place?” Demyx offered. “I think this is the longest I’ve seen you standing still since I’ve lived here. Always running around with books.”

Ienzo was surprised he’d noticed--but why? “I see your reconnaissance skills haven’t atrophied away.”

He shrugged. “You’re all pretty interesting to watch.” A pause. Then, “I was going to go grab lunch. Want to come with?”

Ienzo wasn’t completely sure why, but he said, “Sure.” 

The light, when they got outside, hurt his eyes for a moment. The early summer day was warm, warmer than the drafty castle, and he found himself almost sweating. Flowers, more unkempt than they used to be, filled the plaza with color. Ienzo felt tempted to crouch and pick one, just to remind himself it was real.

“How old are you?” Demyx asked suddenly.

“...Why is it you ask?” 

He shrugged. “I realized I didn’t know.”

“Nineteen. No--” He tried to think. “What day is it?”

Demyx told him.

“Twenty.”

His eyes widened. “You had a birthday and you didn’t tell me?”

“ _ I _ barely knew. Besides. It’s a nonissue.” Odd to realize it. How fitting, to begin this new decade of his life as his old self. To finally be rid of that horrid “-teen” and truly be an adult. He laughed a little.

“...What’s so funny?”

“I’ve been pretending to be a grown up for so long. Now I really  _ am _ one.” 

“What does it feel like?”

“...What indeed.” He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I know. What about you?”

“Huh?”

“How old are you?” They couldn’t be far apart, Ienzo knew.

“Twenty-two. I think.”

He canted his head. “Don’t you know?”

“Well, I, uh.” He laughed awkwardly and knotted his hands. “How do I put this-- I kind of don’t remember anything.”

Ienzo stopped in his tracks. 

“So what are you feeling like? Cause I found this  _ bomb _ noodle place--”

“Demyx.”

He turned. His face was red. 

“I figured…” Ienzo blinked. “Much like Lea uses his old name indiscriminately… but… you don’t remember your old name, do you?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “Even tried to track it down in the Organization’s old files. No dice. It’s all--” He drew a finger across his throat. “Redacted.”

Suddenly Demyx’s previous hesitation to become human made a whole lot more sense. To be a Nobody meant one was strong-willed… a strong will was typically born of pain and hardship. He must not have wanted to risk remembering. “Oh… why didn’t you say something?”

He gave Ienzo a look. “I’m pretty sure this is the longest conversation you and I have had since we’ve been here.”

He had a point. Ienzo turned back to the road. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“...I’m afraid I was judging your choices rather harshly. But in context… it was quite sensible of you.”

His tone darkened, and he looked away. “That’s me,” he said softly. “Sensible Demyx. I mean…” He exhaled. “Why do you think I didn’t go home?”

“I figured your world might still be sleeping.”

“For all I know, it might be.” He bit his lip. “I’ve had worse digs, you know? New place… but familiar faces… Got to get my shit together sometime.”

“...Indeed.” He considered taking the plunge. “Are you happy here?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Loaded question.”

Deja vu, Ienzo thought. 

“I…” He looked skyward. “I like my job, I like getting to talk to people, I like not having to hide. To have time for my music. Waking up  _ not _ dreading every day? I guess that’s happiness. ...I guess. What about you?”

“...You’re right. That  _ is _ a loaded question.”

Demyx smiled. “Thought you’d be happy, though. You and your dads all in one place.”

He flinched. 

“What? Did I say something?”

“I’m afraid our… relationships are rather… complicated, at the moment.”

This wasn’t enough to satisfy him. “Like… how?”

Ienzo found himself wanting to tell him, if so to at least say the words aloud and make them real. At the same time… should he open this one small vein in himself… what else might come out?

“Too personal?” Demyx prompted.

“Of a sort, but…” It took a lot of work. “They… they betrayed me.”

“...How?”

“Ansem the Wise is my adoptive father.”

“...I know that. Guy barely shuts up about you. Thinks the sun shines out your ass.”

“Even, Dilan, Aeleus. Braig too, I suppose, but he’s not here. They… took Ansem, their friend, their  _ king _ … and forced him into the realm of darkness for the sake of continuing the experiments.” His hands were trembling. 

“And then they lied to you about it,” Demyx said slowly, with revelation. “... “They told me you’d gone mad.””

“You have a… rather good memory for dialogue.”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I’m still sorry. And now you gotta live with the guys, work with them. Yikes.  _ Big _ yikes.”

“Perhaps once this Sora business is settled, I will hash things out with them.”

“Tear ‘em new ones. I’ll help.”

This was meant to make him laugh, and it did, chasing away the lump in his throat. 

“...You have a nice laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”

Ienzo felt the blood rush to his face. “You needn’t flatter me.”

“I meant it.” He winked. “Now, really, what  _ do _ you want to eat? I’m starving.”

* * *

Ienzo was still dizzy. The  _ sensible _ thing to do would be to go to Even, admit his blunder and that he’d needed to be rescued, and have himself examined. Instead, he tried to sit often and ply himself with fluids. Irritating, to constantly have to duck out to relieve himself, but better than the alternative.

He found Riku later that day. Riku, of all people, would understand where he was coming from, was the least likely to say he was losing his mind. He messaged him and found him sitting in one of the castle gardens, with Kairi.

Much like the rest of the castle, the gardens too were in disrepair, overgrown or dying, but for the first time Ienzo noticed differences. Things had been pruned, bags of weeds sat waiting for disposal. Was it Kairi who was doing this, in her spare time? He didn’t know who else would care.

“There you are,” Kairi said. “Come sit outside. It’s nice.” Odd to see them out of their adventuring clothes, in clothes normal teenagers might wear; Ienzo realized he, too, probably looked strange without the frame of his black or white jackets.

In another life we might have really been friends, he thought. “It is, isn’t it?” he said, neutrally. He joined them at the small wrought iron table. They were drinking iced tea; Kairi offered him some.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Kairi said.

Ienzo huffed. “I suppose Demyx told you.”

Riku laughed a little. “He… certainly is a character. Thought so ever since I spoke to him in the Keyblade Graveyard.”

He shook his head. “An unanticipated addition to our plan, but ended up being a necessary one. Who would’ve thought.”

“He’s been pretty nice to me,” Kairi said, swishing the liquid around in her glass. “I think he’s lonely.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t been an inviting host.” Ienzo sighed.

“A lot on your mind,” Riku said.

“Putting it lightly. Though… I believe I may have stumbled upon something that may be of use.”

The shift in their energies was instant and complete; Kairi’s expression became sharper.

“You recall… in the Organization days, we all had an elemental attribute. Riku, I’m afraid you know this all too well.” He realized his hands were shaking, and he rested them in his lap, out of sight. “I could create complex, sensorily intense illusions. I created these illusions from the memories of my adversaries… as well as my own.”

They were both silent, their attention rapt. It was hard to look at them.

“I was curious to see if… I could somehow regain and use this power to help trace Sora’s heart. Naminé’s power functioned similarly. It’s nothing I’ve ever done… but it’s something I’d be willing to try. With my knowledge of the heart, I feel like… it’s at the very least worth a shot.”

“But you don’t have that power any more, do you?” Riku asked. “I don’t want you to give up your humanity again just for Sora.”

“I’m sure he’d say the same,” Kairi added.

“Oh, I don’t intend to.” Though would that be the worst thing? To let go of this pain but still be of use, still be able to atone? “I was hoping to see if I could… find it independently. Train it, so to speak. I’m not sure it’s possible… but I would very much like to try.”

“If you think it’s a good idea, then I trust you,” Kairi said. Her wide blue eyes telegraphed hope. 

How had he earned that trust? Ienzo tried to keep his expression neutral, all-knowing. “That’s all well and good--seeing as I’d likely have to see your memories. Riku can attest to this--it’s not a pleasant sensation.” He touched his chest. “You two are so closely linked. If I can trace the chains of  _ your _ memory, maybe I can find his--which would give us some insight as to what’s going on with him.”

“I have nothing to hide,” she said fervently. “I’m in.”

Riku seemed a bit skeptical. “Is it possible?”

“To be honest--I’m not sure. I truly hope so.”

“Well, don’t do anything crazy. Sora did--which is how we ended up here.” 

“It’s thanks to him I’m alive,” Kairi said to him. “I’ll do anything to get him back.”

Riku nodded once. “I will too. Ienzo. What do you need from us?”

“I only  _ need _ you not to mention it to Even or Ansem, at least at the moment. Our relationships are… complicated. The last thing I need is for them to get tied back up in investigating darkness or nothing again. I will do this on my own.”

“Famous last words,” Riku said, with a shake of his head. “Alright. But be careful.”

“I warn you, this may take some time. It might not even be physiologically possible for me. And should I find that power, it will likely take a good deal of time for me to get it strong enough to function as I need it to. Meanwhile… let’s keep going as we were.”

Kairi nodded. “I can do that.”

“You could try asking Merlin or Master Yen Sid about it,” Riku suggested. “They know a lot about magic.”

Different kinds of magic than Ienzo would use. “A good idea. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He turned his new idea over and over again in his mind, as they put Kairi back into her sleep, as they tried to delve into matters of her heart…

“Even?”

“What?” Even’s voice was flat, the same way it always was when he was focusing hard on something. 

“Our Nobody abilities. Are they completely, irrevocably gone?”

This got his attention. He locked eyes with Ienzo, smoothing hair out of his face. “I should hope so,” he said. “Why is it you ask?”

“Mere curiosity, I suppose.”

He shot Ienzo a look. “Naturally the use of dark corridors is the first thing to go. We know that retaining weapons is something of a crapshoot as well, being extensions of a person’s will. Magic, too, takes a sharp nosedive, but can be strengthened again. As for our “elemental” attributes…” He sighed. “They are the most concentrated essence of the self, a power mainlined directly from the will. A power so strong it can only exist in the absence of a heart--otherwise, everyone would have it, wouldn’t they?” A shrug. “The power favors entropy, which a Nobody’s body accepts with ease--but should a human try to use that power, they risk melting their own cells and organs, spending their lifeforce itself to keep it going.”

“But that’s merely theory,” Ienzo said.

“All we do is theorize--and often we’re right.” He put a hand on his hip. “This isn’t something that can be humanely tested.”

“That’s never stopped us before,” Ienzo muttered.

“Well I certainly hope  _ now _ to cause no harm,” Even spat. “Boy, I know you must feel different, missing pieces of yourself. But there’s no need for you to seek such things. What would it accomplish?” He turned and softened a little; the strangeness of compassion on his face brought back a punch of memory from the past. Even, comforting him during one of his many anxiety attacks. Even, talking him through the nightmares. “You don’t truly need such power. Fewer Heartless than ever before, and the town’s defense system will care for the rest. You are safe.”

Ienzo considered the irony of that statement, the still-aching remains of the wound on his side. “Don’t you feel quite a lot weaker?”

Even looked away from him, towards the empty warehouse space beyond the computer. “I feel no need to lose my heart a third time,” he said. “I’ve wasted enough time dallying about, committing crimes against humanity. To atone, I need to be human--that much is clear.” A sigh. “Negative emotion is not weakness, Ienzo. It is natural. Useful.”

“Natural.” He shook his head. “It does not feel that way.”

Even locked eyes with him. For a moment, it seemed almost like the other man would touch him. “Does humanity feel… very alien, to you?”

Anxiety washed over him, coolly. He tried to think of something clever to say.

“...Well, I’m afraid that was a fruitless endeavor.” Ansem’s footsteps seemed deafening. “Merlin couldn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. His words--we’re the experts.”

“How frustrating,” Ienzo said.

“Research is frustration,” Ansem said simply. “Until you find that spark.”

Even had turned back to the computer, flicking through a few different documents. The blankness of his expression seemed rather composed. The tension in the room had increased palpably, as it always did when they were together. Ienzo suddenly felt very envious of Kairi, in her quiet dreamland. He walked over to her, pretended to fiddle with her IV, the blanket draped over her. It was reassuring to have an ally, even an unconscious one. 

_ I will do everything I can, _ he thought towards her.  _ Even if it kills me. _

What was his life, to save a brighter light?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo has an unexpectedly insightful interaction with Demyx, only to fall ill.

After another fifteen hour day of getting nothing accomplished, of feeling Even and Ansem silently seething at one another… Ienzo walked. He needed some peace, some time to decompress. Perhaps he should take up meditating. He did so miss Zexion’s ability to simply push away negative thoughts.

_ Negative emotion is natural _ . Then why can’t you deal with it, Even?

It might have been years since he lived at this castle, but the muscle memory was intense; he took himself to one of his favorite childhood haunts without quite realizing. The crystal greenhouse had been abandoned and emptied even when he was a boy, forgotten in staff changeovers by the groundskeepers. When he needed to escape the others’ wittering over him, easier to come here than to hide in the library, because there they knew to find him. At one point he’d had it rather nicely tricked out, squirreling away blankets and pillows, favorite storybooks, the odd toy he’d found or been given. Just to sit in silence for a time might be enough.

But when he got there, to his surprise and indignation, someone was already there. A faint flush of rage brought the blood to his face.  _ An enormous castle and my one space is desecrated. I suppose this is karma, isn’t it? _ Out of curiosity, or, he figured, apprehension, he took a few more steps towards the shed, trying to keep his tread light. (Ienzo was also  _ much _ clumsier than Zexion. This made absolutely no sense to him--perhaps a defect in the inner ear post recompletion?)

It clicked, and he wasn’t sure if his irritation worsened or lessened. He could hear the soft, light, unique sound of Demyx’s sitar.

Some force seemed determined to shunt them into the same room. Why? And was it worth investigating?

He knocked on the closed crystal door. It needed a good cleaning, like everything else here. He couldn’t see clearly, just Demyx’s shape, the way he started a little at the unexpected intrusion. “It’s Ienzo,” he said. Always weird to hear that name, to say it. “Sorry to frighten you.”

Demyx stood and opened the door. He seemed loath to meet Ienzo’s eyes, his energy immediately and noticeably lower than it usually was. “How’d you find me?”

“Believe it or not--this used to be my childhood hideout.”

He considered this. “All that stuff was yours, then,” he said. He laughed a little. “Figured it was some gardener’s kid.”

“Out of curiosity--what did you do with it?”

He shrugged. “A lot of the books were waterlogged, the blankets and stuff moldy or eaten by bugs and stuff. I had to toss it. I’d say come in--but this is more your space than mine, right?” He turned away from Ienzo, settling back down onto a tasseled cushion. Arpeggio sat idly, nakedly, between them. He rested his hands on his knees.

Ienzo took it all in slowly. Demyx had left some things here too; a succulent, a lantern, a few books of staff paper, some more cushions, a threadbare rug covering the cold stone floor. He realized that he must have been coming here for some time. 

“Sit down, if you want,” he said, in that same tired voice. “Might as well, if you came all the way over.”

Ienzo did so. The cushion was lumpy, but his feet were glad for the relief. “Why here?” he asked. “Out of all the places you could go? I’m… curious.” Ienzo noticed his eyes for the first time; namely, that they were red, damp, a bit swollen. 

“Well… mostly, to find somewhere I could practice in peace,” he said. “Dilan told me off. Said he could hear me through the walls--the guy must have the best hearing alive. The stone is so thick. Anyway, I… started looking. Not much of anything better to do, and… exploring this place gave me something to look forward to. I saw this place, the stuff. So I sat down. Turns out crystal has pretty good acoustics. Listen.” He reached over and plucked one open string; Ienzo heard the sound ring cleanly in the small space. “And that was that. You could… have it back.”

He shook his head. “That’s not necessary. Why am I entitled to things after a long absence?”

Demyx shrugged.

He was almost loath to ask it, but then he thought of what Kairi said over their tea. “Are you… alright? You don’t seem yourself.”

“Kinda too tired to put on the happy-go-lucky act. Sorry.”

This only confirmed Ienzo’s suspicions. “So it’s an act. All of it?”

Demyx looked vaguely caught. “I guess… some of it must be me, for it to have been here so long. But lately things have gotten… harder. For no reason.” He wrinkled his nose. “Finding that energy to be who I was is… a lot. Especially after a long day of work.”

“Who are you now?”

A smirk. “I could say the same. If this happened this months ago, me in your space, you would have dropped some very  _ choice _ dry insults and tattled on me to Saïx or Xemnas. Now you’re just sitting here talking to me.”

Ienzo felt something unraveling. Demyx knew all too well his identity crisis. Unlike Even, or Dilan, or Aeleus, they didn’t have the benefit of being alive until adulthood prior to becoming Nobodies. Demyx’s tenure might have been less than half of his, his misdeeds not nearly as egregious, but he could still relate. “Being Ienzo… is…” He didn’t want to get personal, but the words threatened like vomit.

“Being a person is a fucking nightmare,” Demyx said simply. 

He actually laughed--not a chuckle, but a hard laugh. “Right you are.”

He smiled a little, the dullness retreating just a touch. “My feelings seem too big for my body,” he admitted. “At least I still have Arpeggio, so I can try and play them. But I’m not used to being a wreck.”

“What is it you feel?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really want to know. I wonder if our experiences might be… similar.”

He let out a long breath. “Honestly? I’m mad. I’m  _ so _ angry.”

The last thing Ienzo expected. “At whom?”

He spread his hands. “Myself, mostly.”

Despite himself, he was fascinated. This was the first time he’d had any insight into Demyx’s mind--and it was a vastly different place than he’d expected. “Why?”

“Why--” He took a deep breath. “Any--any number of reasons, okay? Like. First of all, why did I just--do what I was told, in the Organization?”

“When you weren’t slacking off, you mean,” Ienzo said.

“You know what I mean,” he continued. “Why did I let him convince me to do all those awful things? Why didn’t I care? I could’ve just run away, and I… didn’t. That guy. All the shit he did, and he just gets to up and die without paying for any of it.” His voice rose and fell as he spoke. 

“I’m mad at myself too,” Ienzo said softly. 

“Looks like we actually have something in common,” Demyx said dryly. 

“I… suppose we do.” He shifted his weight a little. 

“And it’s just like… now what? I’m here. I’m alive. Does that mean anything? Is this just the fucking chaos of the universe?”

“I know  _ I _ seek to… pay for what I did, as you so put it.” How odd he felt, confessing this. “I need to help people, however I can.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

Another question that threatened to gut him. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

He cocked his head. “Why not?”

“Well, frankly, after all the people I indirectly killed, seeking pleasure or fulfillment is completely mastubatory.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “So being miserable all your life is going to make up for that? Thought you were smarter, Zo.”

Ienzo scowled. “As if you would understand the depravity.”

He flushed. “Why wouldn’t I? I made worlds fall too, you know. They don’t all become Heartless. And the ones that came back, were reborn, are going to be dealing with PTSD out the ass forever. Being miserable is like pissing on their graves.”

“So what, we live for them?”

“Sure as hell don’t make it all be in vain.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know, okay? I’m still trying to figure out how not to cry at complete random.”

There was a tension in here too, elastic. Ienzo felt oddly exposed; vulnerable, he realized. They were both breathing hard, but he suspected they weren’t angry at each other. 

“I can’t--understand all these  _ highfalutin _ ideas you all spit out. I only know that for whatever reason I’m alive, so I’m going to live as  _ hard _ as I can.” He dropped his eyes. “And if I can do good stuff, then all the better.”

“...I see your vocabulary has improved since you’ve been here.”

Demyx shrugged. “Got to. For survival.”

“If it… helps,” he said, “I know the restoration committee is always looking for extra pairs of hands. You’re already familiar in the town, given your work. That’s as good an inroads to helping people as any. Should my trials with Sora ever end… I may decide to follow suit. I’m educated. The least I could do is put that to use.” Should he survive the process. 

They were both deflated now, exhausted. Demyx nodded once. Then, after a long moment, “Do you ever think about what we missed?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Our lives. What they might have been like without the Organization.”

“A masochistic thought experiment.”

“Maybe, but…” He bit his lip. “It’s also part of why I’m so mad. We could’ve just been guys. Had friends, gone to school, the whole nine yards. Hell, maybe  _ we _ could’ve really been friends.”

Ienzo raised an eyebrow. “I… am not sure if I can withstand thinking about it.” It was a naked admission, one that made him feel that way. 

Demyx canted his head again. “Oh? Why not?”

“It would mean writing off the majority of my life.”

He considered this. “How long were you a Nobody?”

He chuckled a little, darkly. “Twelve years.”

Demyx was quiet for a beat. Then, “Holy  _ shit. _ Wait, wait, wait.” He spread his hands. “That means you were--when you became--you were  _ eight _ ?”

“...Congratulations. You can do basic math.”

“How? I mean--well I guess I know how, but--” He seemed genuinely shocked. “Who would do that to a fucking kid? And--what happened to make you so strong willed?”

Ienzo bristled. He’d clearly said too much. Yet at the same time, this validation was… sweet? So why was he feeling moisture in his eyes? 

“Didn’t the apprentices… willingly cast off hearts, or whatever?”

“I didn’t.”

He pursed his lips. “Oh,” he said, very softly. “Oh, Ienzo. I’m so…”

The lump in his throat tightened. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t  _ pity  _ you. I’m angry at how royally fucked over you were. First Ansem… now this…”

He tried to blink it back. The last thing he expected was a conversation with Demyx to unravel him so. Didn’t expect him to  _ listen _ , much less care. It was something he’d put off dealing with for too long--and now it was coming at him, ready or not. 

This was going to hurt.

Ienzo felt oddly paralyzed, fixed to the spot. He should have gotten up, hid himself away, before this breakdown began in earnest. It was like all his energy was devoted to trying to hold it back, especially after such a long, long, frustrating day. He wanted to ask Demyx to leave him, let him make a disgrace of himself in peace. But the only noise that left him was a sob. 

“Ienzo…”

Humiliation and pain washed through in in equal portions. He pressed his face against his hands. The tears seemed almost involuntary.

“It hurts more if you fight it,” Demyx said softly. “Believe me. Been there, done that.”

This, if anything, only broke him further. Such a bizarre thing, to fall apart so heavily and completely, shards of himself twisting painfully within. Guilt, anger, self-loathing, and sadness; emotions long staved off. He could no longer tread the tide and was pulled rather abruptly under.

Ienzo felt a hand on his back, the touch unexpected but not unwelcome. It felt so odd to cry, more than his panic-induced tears. Like he was not quite in his body but all too embodied. He found himself relying on the presence of Demyx’s hand, clinging to that tenuous connection. The boy rubbed smooth circles in an attempt to soothe him. 

He wasn’t sure how long it took for it to stop. All he knew was that he had a rather awful sinus headache, and he was empty, weirdly numb, but the numbness was not as desirable as he’d thought. “I’m sorry,” he said. He sounded terrible, and the humiliation invaded. It would’ve felt bad enough to have this happen on his own, much less in front of anyone else, much less  _ Demyx. _ “This is mortifying.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “All things considered I think you earned a good cry.” He handed him a handkerchief. “Here.”

At least it was clean, Ienzo noted. He patted at his raw eyes. He was feeling dizzy again. “Please do not mention this again.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Shakily, Ienzo locked eyes with him. “I suppose now you know truly how much of a disaster I am.”

He pursed his lips. “What do you think I was doing before you came here? We’re all a goddamn mess, Zo.”

“I guess that is true.”

Demyx stood and offered Ienzo his hands. They were rough to the touch, callused and work-hardened. Against his own soft skin, it was somewhat disquieting to hold, though why? He certainly hadn’t felt that way when Riku touched him. Perhaps he was just feeling unacceptably raw. Demyx helped him to his feet, made Arpeggio vanish. “Let’s get some sleep,” he said. 

And Ienzo  _ did _ sleep that night, though not so well, jerked awake by odd memories of the time before--walking towards Ansem’s quarters, a large tome in his arms, Xehanort holding one of his hands. The discordance between the taste of ice cream and darkness in the basement lab. People screaming, begging for help, or mercy. Part of him had shut down, true, but part of him felt  _ pleasure _ at making them this way-- “transforming” them for the sake of “the greater good.” Was it the positive attention he’d received, seeking the replace the love he’d lost from his parents, from the disappearance of Ansem? Was he simply evil to the core?

Ienzo sat up, nausea curdling his stomach. Very slowly, he went over to the bathroom, knelt over the toilet, and pulled back his hair. By the time he’d finished getting sick he feared he was dissociating, the world seeming a bit vague, a bit mottled, as though he were looking through a veil. He bumped into things, dropped his papers everywhere.

_ You don’t deserve to fall apart. Get it together. Kairi needs your help. _

“...Ienzo?”

His head snapped up. Aeleus was in his guard uniform, ready to begin an endless round. “Aeleus,” he said in what he hoped was a neutral voice. “Good day.”

“You’re off to work, then?”

“Yes. As are you.” He stood, flinching at a crick in his back. Ienzo was fairly sure he felt less bitter towards Aeleus than the rest--even in the Organization days, the man had tried to protect him. Ienzo had no idea how involved Aeleus was in the plot to dispose of Ansem. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. “I hope you are well?”

“Enough, I suppose. Physically healthy. That’s all I can ask for.” The man’s face was so stoic. Did he feel as Ienzo did, all of these overwhelming emotions? He almost wanted to ask. At least, until Aeleus added, “You, on the other hand, look positively green. Are you ill?”

“Perhaps it is this poor lighting?” Ienzo suggested.

Something flickered in his blue eyes. “You mustn’t work if you’re unwell,” he said. “Always a bad habit of yours.”

Ienzo did not feel a swell of indignation, as he thought, but rather something like teariness.  _ This man betrayed you _ , he made himself think. “Is it not curious how much poorer the human body is?” he said instead. “Some longed for humanity… to me it feels something like a great weakness. I wonder if you agree.”

Aeleus considered this. “It’s as though… I’ve lost parts of myself, but yet also  _ gained _ parts of myself, if that makes sense.”

He sighed. “Well, on a literal level, you have.”

“I’m aware of the… uniqueness of your situation.”

He chuckled. “Interesting word choice.”

Aeleus cracked the slightest, smallest smile. Ienzo found himself missing their easy rapport, the way Aeleus never drove him into crazy spirals of thought as the others often did. He listened, he considered, he said what he meant. “You will come back from this, and be better than ever,” Aeleus said. “Unlike the rest of us… you have your entire life.”

“You’re merely middle aged--not old.”

“I find it… difficult, to grow.”

He was startled into honesty. “I… do as well.”

“This is our burden to bear… so to speak. At least we are all here, doing good things, and we have time.”

Did they? The longer Ienzo spent faffing about, the farther Sora could be slipping away… into darkness, perhaps, a darkness partially of his own creation--

(Basement screams, bodies dissolving--)

Ienzo heaved, and while he was not ill, the reaction was indeed very visible.

Aeleus took him by the elbow. "You need to get back to bed."

"I'll be fine--"

"Perhaps you can convince Even and Ansem with such faffery, but I won't stand for it. Come." He was significantly stronger than Ienzo; he could not fight the grip. 

Ienzo knew he himself was not a small man, but compared to Aeleus he felt again a child. He shuddered, blinking back the sting of humiliation. "What do you propose I say, then?"

"That you are sick and cannot work."

Ienzo shook his head wearily. Which was worse; riding this out, or telling Aeleus he was not--physically, at least--ill? Each seemed equally emasculating. 

Aeleus brought him back to his bedroom. "Change into something comfortable and lay down. I'll bring you something to settle your stomach."

Why did he listen? What would Aeleus do if Ienzo disobeyed him? The man had never raised a finger towards him, nor his voice; if Ienzo didn't do as he said, he'd likely only be disappointed.

How odd, to wear pajamas so late into the morning. He perched on the lip of his bed and rested his cheek on his knee. Before long, the door opened, and he was handed a mug which smelled of ginger. "I've made you late," Ienzo said. 

"Dilan can handle it, I think."

He was shaking. Why? Was he truly ill, or was this yet more bizarre emotion? 

Aeleus took off his glove and rested a large palm against Ienzo's forehead. "You are quite warm," he said, with a shake of the head. "Please tell me you won't run off the moment I turn my back."

He'd been planning on it, but instead he said, "Perhaps I will… work from here?"

He sighed heavily. "A compromise is better than nothing, I guess."

Ienzo sipped the tea. It warmed him, soothed the anxious ache in his breast. "You needn't stop for me," he said. "Thank you."

The barest flicker of a smile. "You may be grown now… but everyone needs to be cared for sometime. It is human."

"Is it?" He said, to himself. 

A nod. "Quite. Get some rest. I'll check on you."

Ienzo drank down the rest of the tea. How odd, to be cared for. He bit his lip. He took out his tablet, with the intent to provide remote support… but found himself drifting.

* * *

The hand on his forehead was cold this time, not warm, and he started. "Sorry, child."

Ienzo blinked disjointedly, his vision blurry. "Even? What are you doing here?"

He cocked his head. "You're sick and I'm a doctor. I thought you'd understand as much."

He ignored the barb. "Kairi--"

"Is well and asleep. Ansem is working with her now. The fool is coding something again." A sigh. "Your temperature is back to normal. Must've been one of those short-term bugs."

_ Or intense anxiety _ , Ienzo thought, well aware that the symptoms were the same. "I see… I must apologize."

"Had you come down you could've given it to all of us-- _ including _ the girl. How do you feel now?"

He tried to curl his lips around the expected "fine" but instead said, "a little woozy."

"Could be dehydration. Or low blood sugar. Is your stomach settled enough to eat?" His tone lacked the stubbornness, the roughness Ienzo was used to from Vexen. Like that flicker of compassion he'd seen before. "Maybe some rice?"

"...Maybe…"

Even squeezed his shoulder gently. "It's alright, Ienzo. To be human… is to sometimes be ill." He sighed, then wrinkled his nose. "I've no doubt Demyx carried it in with him, and this place is a veritable vacuum."

"In an odd way… this is nostalgic."

He cocked his head. "You were of  _ quite _ a delicate countenance, I admit. Though we never did teach you to take adequate care of yourself. Our bodies are not mere vessels--having been one, I can say it's a highly unpleasant experience." He sneered. 

Ienzo instead looked at the buttons of Even's jacket when he said, "do you ever miss it?"

"What? That nightmare we got out of?"

He nodded. 

"I'd like to be actualized enough to say… of course not." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yet… the challenges of this new life… are not to be underestimated. Are we not fools, if we do not rise up?" A tired sigh. "I do believe Ansem's waffling is getting to me. This is science--not philosophy."

"Perhaps a heart is one and the same," Ienzo mumbled. “It is more nebulous than we can ever hope to understand with logic.” Perhaps, then, with the intangible, with magic. 

He chuckled; an odd, staccato sound, rarely heard. “Yes, but should I give up now, I’d be turning my back on close to thirty years of my career--and I’m loath to do so.”

Ienzo smiled. This was the first easy (in a manner of speaking) interaction he’d had with Even in weeks. 

“What of you?”

He frowned. “You mean do I miss it?”

“Too sensitive a question?”

Ienzo rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. “I miss the feeling of… stability, of concrete drive,” he said slowly. “Mostly the stability. I’m not sure if… well, I’m not sure if it were merely me, but… you know… All of that anxiety I had as a child… the trauma that came from my parents’ passing… it was gone. I could merely…  _ be _ .”

Even put a hand to his chin. “That is very interesting… perhaps Nobodies’ minds not only reject the idea of a conscience, but also mental illness.” A pause, then. “Do you feel anxious now?”

Ienzo wanted to raise his hackles and snap or deflect. But he’d already opened himself this much. “Almost pathologically so,” he admitted. “I find it difficult to sleep as well.”

Something in Even shifted, away from the personal and more towards the clinical. “How often have you been feeling this way? Does it ever escalate into attacks?”

He exhaled. This was why he hadn’t said anything earlier; he didn’t want to get into it. “It is quite constant,” he said in a low voice. “Though I only ever panic when I wake from a nightmare.”

“Unfortunately nightmares are to be expected, all we’ve gone through.” A heavy sigh. “I’m hoping that… perhaps once you are used to humanity again, the anxiety will lessen. But you  _ did _ have it quite intensely as a child. It may be… something to brace yourself for.”

Ienzo’s stomach was feeling sour again. 

“I could give you medication,” he said. “Something to help metabolize all that excess stress. Is that something you want?”

He was plunged again into his ever-present well of shame. “A sign I simply can’t take the strain? The… weight of my own humanity?”

Even scowled. “Don’t be dramatic, boy,” he said. From “Ienzo, child” to “boy,” he thought. “You were a Nobody twelve years--you can’t simply switch back and expect there to be no repercussions. Why be needlessly in pain?”

Ienzo bit his lip.

“A stupid way to repent, if I do say so myself.  _ Suffering… _ ” He scoffed. “Suffering now will not negate what happened, Ienzo.”

Demyx had said much the same thing. And these two were such opposite personalities. Perhaps that meant they were right?

Even squeezed his hand. The touch was unexpected. “I won’t make the decision for you, Ienzo, but please consider it. A lack of anxiety may give you a clearer head. May make it easier for you to… not only work, but live. It’s purely  _ medical. _ ”

As if Even had ever been the expert in psychology. “...Quite.”

He shook his head; he knew the conversation was over. “I’ll bring you some rice.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo's attempts to regain his power go awry, leading him to a confrontation with Even.

Ienzo turned back to his work, again, with a fervor. Only this time, after dealing with all of Ansem and Even’s frippery, at night he tried to find places to train magic.

The greenhouse was out. Demyx was using that, and might see things he didn’t need to see.

The castle was huge. Plenty of nooks and crannies to squirrel himself away in, but Ienzo did not want to spend  _ hours _ climbing or walking somewhere just to train for yet more time. He spent several days trying to subtly coax the entirety of Aeleus and Dilan’s rounds out of them; it needed to be off their radar, too. At last, though, he found it. It was a domed courtyard, perhaps fifteen meters in diameter, with several pillars; these pillars had lighted sconces. The ground had once been inlaid parquet, only it had been damaged and torn away in places. It was quiet, here, and there was potential for moonlight. 

He dressed comfortably. He brought with him a small store of water, nonperishable snacks. Ienzo wasn’t quite brazen enough to try stealing ethers from Even’s stores; the man would no doubt notice they were missing. He’d have to make do for now until the next time he went to the market.

Ienzo sat cross legged on the ground. He tried to breathe and center himself, and once he felt he was sufficiently focused he summoned the lexicon.

It had once been named “Book of Retribution,” a name he’d not consciously chosen but had been inscribed in the front cover. He knew now that of course this was the very essence of his psyche; what else would a scholar, a researcher have other than a  _ book _ ? He had no need for knives, swords, or instruments. Words could--and did--hurt just as much. They could break your heart. 

_ Sticks and stones _ , he thought sourly.

But this volume? There was nothing written on the inner cover, just blankness, a generic paper print. There were some contents to this book now, from all his time spent reading in this life so far. So what was it? Was it nameless? Did it matter?

_ Friend, _ he thought towards it,  _ help me. _

Ienzo stood. His powers had been partially telekinetic, at least in regards to the lexicon. It might be easiest to start there. He held it out in his arms and tried to pull from within. He could feel the book trembling in his grip as he tried to lift it with his mind; instantly Ienzo felt a hot headache blooming, his heart rate increasing noticeably.  _ Just fucking pick it up, _ he thought to himself. He let go with his hands, and it immediately fell to the floor.

He almost groaned out loud, but composed himself. He had to be  _ calm. _ Try again.

He must’ve stood there for hours. It was unclear.

Every time Ienzo tried to get the lexicon to do what he wanted, it simply flopped to the ground. He could get it to do no more than tremble in his hands. The pain grew worse, and he grew dizzier, until his breathing was quite labored. The water and snacks only partially helped. He felt drained, depleted, in more ways than one, and to his shock felt frustrated tears building in his eyes.

_ Weak. Weak. Weak. _

He walked back to the apprentices’ quarters and dropped into bed for a weary few hours of sleep before his alarm woke him.

* * *

These days took on a pattern. By day, he was Ienzo, a modest scholar of the heart, seeking to plumb the depths of Kairi’s. By night, he was closer to Zexion, struggling to reign in a power he’d once had like breath. He had no idea if he was making any progress or if he were simply hurting his body for no reason.

Because it  _ was _ hurting. He was prone more than ever to headaches, to wooziness, and sometimes even in sedentary stillness his heart would race. He felt out of breath climbing stairs. The ethers he finally got his hands on did help, but only so much. It seemed like Even was right, about the entropy. Not to mention, magic burned  _ ludicrously _ more calories for humans than Nobodies, and he struggled to keep up proper intake. 

He couldn’t do  _ nothing. _ What were some aches and pains compared to Sora’s life?

The weeks--or months? He wasn’t sure--seemed to drag on in this manner… Ienzo so slowly made progress, was able to lift and manipulate the book with relative ease, though it left him gasping for air. He  _ would _ get used to it. He’d be sure of it.

That morning, he’d again been feeling dizzy, but thought nothing of it. He saw Demyx in the hall, on his own way to work. “Hey, Zo,” he said pleasantly. Ienzo had tried to be cordial, since his breakdown, had even responded to the other boy’s texts--but Ienzo had no time for friendship, and he thought Demyx knew that. “How’s it going? Haven’t seen hide or hair of you in forever.”

“It certainly is going,” he said vaguely. His vision was blurry, and he felt again his heart starting to skip, to race. It would pass. “I’m afraid I’ve barely had a moment to myself.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “But are you… doing okay?”

“Better than I was. Thank you for asking.”

“‘...Course.” He smiled a little. 

“How’s your work?”

“Oh, same soup, just reheated, you know? But I honestly don’t mind. It’s just different  _ enough _ every day. And so far… almost all the people I’ve met are nice. It’s… refreshing.” A wry laugh. 

“I know I haven’t been--very warm--” A particularly sharp pain echoed through his head, and he touched it without meaning to.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate--Zo?”

He tried to breathe through the pain. His heart had leapt into his throat. He realized all this must be very visible because Demyx added,

“Hey. Zo?”

Ienzo tried to find the words to console him, but his knees were weakening.

“Zo? I… fuck.”

His consciousness cut rather abruptly, and from here there were only odd snatches of things. He was being carried, his face pressed against Demyx’s chest, the smell of laundry and something like salt and ginger. How odd… to be so vulnerable…

“I got your call--what on earth happened?”

“We were just talking and he collapsed like a sack of potatoes.”

More darkness, more lost time. Ienzo didn’t regain awareness all at once. He felt blankets, the distinctive pull of an IV, the smell of bleached linen. An ache, dulled by painkillers, nothing quite having straight lines. 

“...My boy? Can you hear me?” A warm, dry hand against his. 

His eyelids felt like lead, and a scratchiness of sandpaper. 

“Let him sleep, Ansem. He’ll need it for the hiding I’m about to give--”

He either slept or was unconscious--it was hard to tell. But things were clearer once he opened his eyes.

He was not in his bedroom. He was in the med bay, where he’d tended to Even and Dilan as they recovered from their Nobodies’ wounds. While not as cold or as sterile as the Organization’s own ward, it was still quite jarring.

“Awake at last?” Even set aside the tablet he’d been holding and came over to the bed.

“Time for the hiding, then?” Ienzo asked dully.

“Do you have any idea what shape you were in when Demyx brought you to me?”

“I was simply unconscious.”

“Simply--” Even sputtered, his hands near his face, and Ienzo saw Vexen once again. “You do realize healthy twenty-year-olds don’t  _ simply _ black out, yes?”

Ienzo sat up. He was still perilously dizzy, but less so. “Perhaps I was just ill.”

“None of this  _ perhaps _ nonsense. I know  _ exactly _ what you’ve been up to.”

His heart stuttered again, though this time from that familiar punch of  _ caught. _

Even scowled and turned away from him. “Do you know what the ideal weight for a person of your size is?”

Ienzo was confused; not the lecture he’d been expecting about  _ entropy _ and  _ danger _ . “Well--yes--”

“Tell me.”

“What are you getting at?”

“What is a healthy body weight for a person of your height?” His lips were pursed.

“Between fifty-nine and eighty-one kilograms.”

“Do you know how much  _ you _ weigh?”

“Even, I’ve no idea where you’re going with this,” he said honestly.

“Fifty-four. Fifty-four kilograms with a twenty-year-old’s metabolism.”

It started to click. Even didn’t know about Ienzo’s attempt to regain his power. He thought all these health issues were from-- He put a hand to his head. Ienzo knew the magic was causing him to lose weight. He didn’t think it was  _ drastic _ or  _ noticeable. _

Which angle to play, then? How did he get himself out of this? He did not want to confess to an issue he did not have, but confessing to use of power seemed infinitely worse. “Even,” he said tiredly. “You needn’t worry about my weight. At all.”

“Oh, but that  _ isn’t  _ all, Ienzo,” he said smoothly. “You think nobody’s noticed that your bed is rarely slept in? That your phone shows you active all hours of the day--and night? Not to mention you barely eat, barely drink water, that I’ve noticed, anyway, and I’m not the only one paying attention. The dehydration, the sleep deprivation, this…” Again he trailed off. “Your blood pressure, the ambient amount of cortisol in your blood… Ienzo, if you keep living like this, you won’t see thirty.”

Ienzo dropped his eyes. 

“I don’t know how to impart the seriousness of your condition.”

“I’m not  _ radically _ underweight.” 

He groaned. “It’s not about your weight. It’s that you  _ clearly _ are neglecting your own needs--and it’s catching up to you. And it will  _ keep _ catching up to you unless you learn to take care of yourself.”

“I’m an adult, I’m perfectly capable--”

“Perfectly capable? Perfectly capable? You think losing consciousness for the better part of three days is a reflection of  _ health _ ?”

Ienzo gritted his teeth. A rage began coiling in his stomach. “What does it matter?” he all but snarled.

“Child, I can’t  _ make _ you want to live. But how else can I convince you that your body can’t, and  _ won’t _ , react like a Nobody’s? It’s not a vessel, not a plaything. You can’t expect to  _ work _ if you’re deteriorating so rapidly.” He softened just a touch; bizarre to see it happen. “You can’t expect to live, either.”

Ienzo didn’t know what to say. It felt like getting punched.

“I lost you once. I won’t lose you again.”

“Lost?” The claws were well and truly out now. For the first time Ienzo fully understood what it meant when someone  _ snapped _ , despite having seen it and forced it on people countless times. It did feel like breaking. “You  _ lost _ me?”

At his radical change in tone, Even’s eyebrows shot up. 

“You…” He couldn’t find the words. “You took my father and you dumped him out, and then you had the nerve--the  _ gall _ \-- to lie to me about it. For  _ years _ .” He was trembling. “You let Xehanort do to me what he would. You let me  _ see _ and  _ break _ those people. You.”

Even had turned very pale.

“And then--after all that--you let him take my heart. You think a kid could make that kind of decision? A fucking child?” Ienzo breathed hard. “I was just another one of your experiments, Even. That’s all I ever was. Admit it.” He’d never heard his own voice like this, rough and on the verge of a scream. “You, Aeleus, Dilan. You didn’t  _ lose _ me. You threw me away.”

Ienzo didn’t know what to read into that expression--only knew that he’d never seen it before. “Ienzo…” He began tremulously.

“Everything I’ve done…” The guilt was almost stronger than the rage. “You gave me the tools. Why?”

“What?”

“Tell me why.”

“I never wanted him to hurt you. Never wanted you to have that life. But Xehanort… his hold on us… we were so convinced we could… change the world. He told me he wanted to make it  _ better _ for people like you.” His eyes were pleading. “Seeing all your pain… I thought the darkness could  _ heal. _ That it could  _ help _ people. But it twisted me. Made it so much easier to put aside the human for the scientific… made my ends… worth their means. We were experiments too, Ienzo. Do you think any of us had a choice? It was give up our hearts… or become another subject in his plan.” He pressed one hand to his face, his eyes shut tight. “By the time I tried to get us out, it was too late… and being a Nobody cut all my bonds with others, especially you.”

The rage was cooling, hardening, and becoming something far more painful. 

“Every time I see your face I think of it. What you could’ve done. Already, already you’re doing so much more good than I ever did.” He came closer to Ienzo. “I had hoped to raise you to be better. When Ansem asked me to help him care for you… you were already all but feral from his ragged childcare. I saw that you were… different, a brilliance I had hoped to nurture. But once the darkness came we exploited you. And I am so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The tears in his eyes were oddly cold. 

“It pains me more than I can describe to see you struggle now, as a direct result of my actions. All I can do is hope I can make this place good enough, safe enough, for you to have the life you deserved.” His voice was unsteady. Ienzo had never seen Even cry; part of him didn’t think the man was capable. But the tears on his face were very real. 

“...Even.” He felt his lip trembling in an attempt to hold it back.

“I do not expect to be forgiven. I hope that this guilt… will make me  _ better _ .”

The apology rang dully in his ears. He feared he was breaking again, in a different way this time. Even sat on the bed next to him. 

“Let me help you, Ienzo. You are no longer so alone. I wish to earn your trust again… should you so let me.”

It was this that did it, on top of his very exhaustion. Again the tears seemed to run from a deep, awful place in him; the abandonment and guilt and rage mixing into a slurry he couldn’t fight anymore. They broke out of him. He curled up. Despite it all, Even was here. He’d apologized, something Vexen never had done. He was… upset.

So gently, Even reached forward to embrace him. It had been years since he’d last been consoled like this, yet it was so eerily familiar. Even smelled the same, bleached cloth and powder. Ienzo found himself clinging to him. “Just cry,” Even said softly. “Scream, if you need. It might help.”

All Ienzo could do was listen, paralyzed again by his own emotions, but it felt… cathartic? Like the dark things were bleeding out of him, bit by tiny bit. He knew on a literal level it was probably humiliating, to be a grown man sobbing in his old guardian’s arms, but he felt less mortified than when he had broken down in front of Demyx. Even stroked his hair, another familiar gesture. Eventually, eventually… the sobs quieted, calmed, and he could breathe normally. Even got up and handed him a cool, damp cloth for his raw eyes. 

“Is that better?” Even asked.

“How disgraceful this is,” he muttered.

“Your system is no doubt out of sorts--and so is your heart. Natural for it to need some kind of release.” He took off his lab coat; Ienzo noticed before he set it aside that the shoulder was quite damp, translucent, almost. “You should spend some time recovering. Sleeping, eating, getting outside.”

“What about Kairi?”

“Kairi  _ and _ Sora would both agree that this isn’t worth the price of your health. Physically or mentally.”

“But with Aeleus and Dilan pulled away by rounds--” and Even and Ansem seething at one another, “--you’ll be--”

“We’re both grown men, Ienzo. I think we can set aside our differences for the time being.”

“What will I do if I don’t work?” It was more a question to himself than anything; Ienzo  _ truly didn’t  _ know. He’d been working and working for years now.

“Perhaps focus on your own studies? Or…” He considered. “We could have you on in a heavily reduced capacity, say three hours a day?”

Ienzo felt odd. Stripped bare. “This is so humiliating, for it to come to this.”

Even just sighed. “What else would have happened? It’s all you know--working yourself into the ground for things you care about. We raised you this way. But now your cause should be learning to be human. No more, no less.”

It was clear Even was right. If he were to do good, he had to be healthy. Dealing with these emotions and memories should be a priority.

“I’ll give you some medication to help you sleep,” Even said. “And the anti-anxiety. I’d like for you to try both, at least for a time. See how it treats you.”

“...Alright.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo tries to make humanity his new project, with limited success.

Ienzo tried to do as Even said. He took the pills--one in the morning, one at night. He set a timer and forced himself to eat every four hours, though he had little appetite. The weight he’d lost from his heavy magic use began to come back on. He no longer felt so dizzy or achy.

But the anti-anxiety medication made him feel a bit foggy, a bit dissociative. He passed the time reading about it. For the first time in months, Ienzo visited the library for the sake of fiction, and spent a pleasurable few days rereading an old childhood favorite. 

He tried to write and reflect as to what this whole experience had taught him, but found himself staring at blank pages, blank screens. Was he not ready, to delve into this mess? Or did he have nothing of insight to say?

This abandoned, Ienzo went outside.

It was summer now, and very warm, the bright light a shock to his tender eyes. He suspected he was beginning to need glasses, no doubt an accumulation of years in front of pages and screens. He saw children playing in the streets, groups of friends, a young couple or two with their hands linked. Compared to the empty, massive castle, Radiant Garden felt full of life.

Nobody seemed to recognize him, and for this he was grateful. He kept walking, letting his mind wander, eavesdropping idly and taking in the colors and smells, all of it too much in a good way. He walked, he drifted. Without consciously realizing it, he’d brought himself to the cemetery.

It was well-kept, despite the obvious bits of destruction--broken memorial stones, the brick wall still a work in progress, grass growing over gouge marks from Heartless. For a second Ienzo struggled to remember where it was before sense memory kicked in.

There they were, side-by-side. The mortuary tablets were rather dirty. If he’d known, he would’ve brought supplies to clean. Disrespectful. He read his parents’ names, his own old surname before the adoption gave him Ansem’s. He whispered the name aloud, just to hear it. It was much softer sounding than  _ Zexion. _ Light. Rhythmic. 

The idea had originally been for his parents to be apprentices, not him. They were both scholars in their own right, his mother a botanist, his father a physicist. They’d hoped to be older before they had their first child, but these things happened, and they did so love Ienzo, as Ansem had told him. Noticing Ienzo’s brilliance… and hoping to grant his parents’ wishes… Ansem took him in and gave him an education. And the rest was history.

He knelt and bowed his head. He barely remembered either of these people, just flashes of joy and warmth and comfort; a pat on the head, hands tucking him in. He’d only been five when they passed, a freak accident, a fire. It hadn’t been the flames that killed them, but the smoke; only a well-placed wet cloth over his own nose and mouth had kept him alive until the fire brigade arrived. 

Ienzo wished he didn’t remember this, but he did. The house had been built into a stone wall, and the internal structure collapsed, blocking the only real door. Father had tried his hardest to carve a way out, but he was a physically weak academic and the smoke got him, falling first to his knees. Mother had turned Ienzo’s face away, sang him a lullaby, curled him a bit more tightly in her arms--

What good was thinking about this?

What would they think of him now? If they knew what he’d do? Would Mother perhaps have held that cloth a little tighter, a little closer, until--

“Ienzo? What are you doing here?”

His head snapped up. He saw Dilan, in casual clothing, his eyes mottled and red. “I suppose… the same as you,” he said. He knew distantly that Dilan had lost a lover at some point; not through any conscious admittance by the man himself, but through drunken conversations Ienzo had eavesdropped on.

Dilan came closer and looked down at the memorials. “I… remember that day all too well,” he said, with a sigh. “Your parents weren’t the only ones who were lost in that fire. That part of town… the houses were too much on top of one another. You might consider yourself lucky.”

Ienzo laughed. “In a cosmic way, I suppose I am.”

Another pause. Then more cautiously, “she was a lovely woman, your mother. Very warm. I’ve hardly ever met a scientist who was so good-humored. I think in some lights you look like her.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Really?”

“Well, the premature gray is unmistakable. And here…” He gestured to his jaw. 

Ienzo looked at his palms. “Is it bad that I scarcely remember what they looked like?” All of their possessions had been lost in the fire, including photos.

“Oh, there may be a picture or two hanging around--there would’ve been official portraits when they took on the apprenticeship,” Dilan explained, at his baffled expression. “Would you like that, if I were to find them?”

“I would--very much so.” It took him a moment to realize  _ why _ Dilan was being so saccharine to him. It was compensation. Ienzo stood slowly, flinching at the ache in his knees. 

“You were so very young,” Dilan said. “So small. I remember thinking that.”

“I suppose you dissented then, when Ansem took me in?”

“Of course I did. What a place to raise a child, after all. But we didn’t do much parenting of you, did we?”

“...Quite.” Ienzo did not want to get into another screaming match. He turned to leave. 

“Are you feeling better? I heard you were rather ill.”

The meditative mood that had come over him upon entering this place was quickly shattered. “Yes, I am,” he said. 

“I’m aware we’ve… scarcely spoken in some years.”

Ienzo thought about it. Even in those “halcyon” days, he’d never been close to Dilan. And further pulled away to different teams in the Organization. “No, I don’t suppose we have.” Then again, what was there to say?

“Do you enjoy being human?” Dilan asked, the same way an adult might awkwardly ask a child something. 

Ienzo shook his head; not in response, but the inanity of the question. “I’m afraid the jury’s still out. Not that I have a choice, here.”

“You have choices,” Dilan said. “So many.”

“Is your life written in stone, then?” he asked, sourly.

“The others wish to atone and I wish to keep them safe while they do so,” Dilan said. “So yes, I suppose.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Safe from what? Heartless?”

“Those that may seek revenge,” Dilan said slowly.

Ienzo scoffed and turned away again.

“I am not being facetious.”

He shot him a look. 

“We’ve wrought havoc on this town,” Dilan said. “The lives lost in our lab… people remember those loved ones, and miss them. Now it’s public knowledge we’re back… surely there may be more than some cruel words thrown at one on the street. People are armed to the teeth with all the Heartless.”

“Assassination would be too quick of a way to go,” Ienzo said simply. “More like they best let us fester in this guilt, if they wish for punishment.”

“Is that what you want? To be punished?”

Ienzo scowled. Twice was a coincidence; three times was a connection. Demyx, Even, now Dilan lecturing him about  _ suffering. _ “Do I walk around with a boorish look on my face?”

Dilan raised an eyebrow. “I’ve noticed that as soon as your emotion reaches your face, you snap it back to neutral… put on a mask. Almost impressive, how quickly you can do it. Putting yourself aside… for whatever inane nonsense they subject you to. I’d hoped you would at least enjoy  _ some _ pleasures of life, however small. Yet to not allow yourself to  _ feel _ \--”

“I  _ feel _ ,” he spat. “entirely too much.” He was on the verge of adding,  _ and you never allowed yourself to feel without a bottle in your hand _ , but didn’t. 

“I suppose you must. The weight of emotion must be somewhat unbearable.”

“That,” he said, “is putting it mildly.”

Dilan considered. “Do you feel very bitter?”

This was very quickly becoming a confrontation, something Ienzo had no energy for. “Why is it you want to know?”

“Because if I were you, I would,” he said, with a shake of his head. “If I were you, after all you’d been put through, I’d leave that castle seething… and never come back. Why is it you stay?”

The last thing Ienzo expected him to say--he felt his eyebrows raise. “Well I’ve… work to do.”

“And the men you must work with?”

“Ansem has never wronged me. And Even and I are mending things. We’ve known one another for so long. I…” He trailed off uselessly, unable to identify the emotion now curdling within him. He squinted, trying to name it. It felt vaguely as though it were clamped to his thyroid. "I've no one else," he realized slowly, and it was a very, very cold revelation.

"...No," Dilan agreed. "Neither have I."

Ienzo swallowed. He was, again, teary. He'd never needed friends before, or people in general, content to squirrel himself away. But did he need people now? Really, truly?

If not for Demyx, for Even, it was very likely that his physical condition would have continued to deteriorate until he… what, died?

Quite possibly, yes.

Ienzo realized, so slowly, that he no longer desired death. Then what did he want? 

What did he  _ want? _

A chance to set things right. But clearly so far what he'd been doing was… more or less an elegant form of slow-moving suicide. But what of his powers? Wasn't it worth it, to regain them? He felt more mixed up and confused than ever before. "Perhaps, then, we should try harder," he said slowly, and then left, lost in thought.

Ienzo didn't get far.

"Zo! You're up and about!"

He would be startled, but he wasn't. He seemed to perpetually run into Demyx lately. "Hello."

The other boy was flushed, grinning. There was a small harness over his shoulders, but devoid of packages. "How do you feel?"

"Quite a lot better," he admitted. "I must apologize to you. And thank you, for that matter."

He rubbed the back of his neck, but his expression was taut, tense. "I wouldn't just leave you there. I'm… good at delivering bodies. Right?"

Ienzo smiled a little. "That you are."

"So what happened?"

"In a word--overwork." He sighed. "Exhaustion, stress. It became too much for me. I've been… waylaid, until I recover, and find myself with far too much time on my hands."

He grinned. "Well. At least you're doing better. I'm done for a bit, so do you wanna get lunch?"

"...I could eat." 

"Awesome. Let's go. You're going to  _ love _ this place." His posture was different, and almost unconsciously now and again he would touch his back.

"Are you alright?" Ienzo asked, realizing the irony.

Demyx shrugged. "Real heavy stuff irritates my back. Old wound. You know?"

"...I guess business is going well?"

Demyx groaned. "Too well. I've barely had time to even… well, eat."

Ienzo wondered why Demyx didn't just shirk off. But he'd mentioned he'd like talking to people, and Kairi had said he was lonely. Perhaps delivering these packages gave him some much needed positive interaction--which he hardly ever received at the castle.

Demyx brought him over to a stand which seemed to be selling some kind of soup. The vendor greeted him by name. The smells were thick, delicious--scallions, spice, the salt of broth--and for the first time in months Ienzo felt hungry. "Who's your friend?" The woman asked.

Demyx clapped a hand on his shoulder. " _ This _ is my roomie Ienzo."

The touch was, again, disconcerting; he could almost feel the imprint of Demyx's hand, warm through the fabric. "Hello," he said.

The woman studied him. "That name is… familiar." She put out two servings of the meal, with chopsticks. "Wait. Aren't you--"

"...I was Ansem's ward," he admitted softly. "Ansem the Wise."

"...Yes," she said slowly. Then, to Demyx. "I thought you lived  _ near _ the castle--not  _ in  _ it."

Demyx shrugged. "Same diff."

The woman studied Ienzo. There was something… careful, in her gaze. "It's a relief to know he's still alive. And you."

"Thank you. I appreciate it. It is good to be back in town."

She accepted Demyx's money without comment and they took their bowls to a nearby table.

"Guess you're a celebrity," Demyx said, clicking his chopsticks. 

"Well, I was the king’s son. But it was a blood monarchy--I am no prince.” He sighed. “I suppose they… have no knowledge of my involvement." He stared down into his bowl of noodles. He had no idea if it was relieving or not to escape blame. He began eating, found it was all very good, the flavors subtle and well-mingled. "I suppose you must eat around town, then?"

"Yeah. There's so  _ much _ to try, and it's all pretty cheap."

"I can repay you when we get back--"

Demyx clacked the chopsticks. "No, Ienzo. It's fine. I'm not exactly struggling. Scrooge is a cheapskate, but he pays his employees well."

Ienzo wondered what he  _ did _ do with his money.

"I mean, I give Ansem some money for the room, and I feed myself, but…" A sigh. "You're going to think this is dumb."

"I doubt that."

"I want a house. A home. Eventually."

He blinked. "That's not stupid."

Demyx shrugged. "A place I can be me… where I can't be bothered."

"Like the greenhouse."

He locked eyes with him. "Yes. Exactly."

Ienzo considered. He sipped his broth, which was slightly too warm in the summer heat but soothing in another way. "I wonder if I want the same," he said softly.

"It's part of growing up. Living on your own. Though you got a sweet deal. Can't say I blame you for sticking around."

"It's hardly sweet."

"Well, Ansem provides for your every whim. That's kind of sweet."

He had a point. "Maybe someday we'll be neighbors, and not merely roommates," he said.

Demyx smiled a little. "Could you imagine?" 

Ienzo thought. "Actually, I can." He can imagine Demyx's future so clearly. Personable, talented. He'd do well for himself, Ienzo was sure. But his own future? Without research, who was he? "Query."

He raised an eyebrow. "Shoot."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

"What, in general?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

Demyx wrinkled his nose. "I don't think I'd mind hacking it at performing. And--" He leaned back a little, wincing as his body hit the chair. "I don't know. I'm kind of glad to see what life has for me, you know what I mean? Doing good things where I can. And…" A wry laugh. "I don't know. I wouldn't mind looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend, if the right person came along. Someone to spend time with."

Ienzo felt the blood warm his face. He'd never considered… relationships, emotionally  _ or  _ physically. He wasn't sure he was capable. "I didn't realize you were a romantic."

"I think anyone can be," he said vaguely. "Yeah. It would be nice to mean something to someone… and get to love them in turn."

“Do you think we’re capable of love?”

Demyx flinched, his gaze becoming guarded. “Kind of rude of you to say that.”

Ienzo put a hand to his brow; it had been an honest question, not one meant to gut. “Forgive me--that was not what I meant. I meant it quite literally.”

Demyx considered. So strange, to see him actually think, and not just spit out the first thing his facade told him to. “I think so,” he said slowly. “I mean… people, right? One of the universal needs is to love and be loved--in any form. People need people. It’s pretty natural.”

“I’ve lived my life so isolated, hardly ever desiring company,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Perhaps that might be worth changing… seeing everything that we’ve seen.”

The guard relaxed just the slightest in his eyes. “Are you lonely?”

Ienzo blinked. There was hardly anything left of his soup, so no way to easily deflect. Had  _ that _ been the deep emotion he’d felt earlier? “Quite possibly--though I’ve never consciously identified that feeling.” He didn’t know where to begin with people. How to engage, to talk to them, in a purely positive manner. 

Demyx sighed. Then, “Well, why don’t we be friends, then?”

He raised an eyebrow. “So simply?”

He shrugged. “I mean it’s been fine the last few times we’ve talked, right? When you’re not… falling apart on me, I mean.”

Ienzo flushed. “I  _ am _ a mess.”

“Well I am too.” He bit his lip. “So what do you say?”

Ienzo smiled; it felt odd. “Alright. Friends.”

Later that night he considered what Demyx had been talking about. Ienzo couldn’t help but be impressed with his ability to see beyond the current circumstances. Ienzo had once been a master tactician, but he’d always planned for the  _ Organization’s _ longevity, not his own. Merely surviving had been good enough for Zexion. But his own life? Perhaps to plan for  _ its _ longevity, treat it like a mission to be endured, a game to be won? But without concrete goals… he was floundering.

His new cause to care about  _ needed _ to be his humanity. He did need friends, social outlets. He turned that conversation over and over in his mind. Was Ienzo capable of love? There were  _ things _ he loved, certainly, books he’d read, food he’d eaten, the feel of sunlight. There were things he was passionate about--learning and research. But  _ people _ ? Loving meant being vulnerable… and he was hardly even able to do that around  _ himself _ , let alone someone else.

Not entirely true.

It was one thing to out and out cry around Even--the man had seen him far worse, especially as a child. But he’d broken down as well in front of Demyx, who he barely knew on a personal level despite their years of working together. To allow emotions into the forefront of his being… was daunting. Where to begin?

Maybe the library would have answers?

One of Ienzo’s specialties as a young apprentice had been psychology. Not necessarily a hard science, not like what the others subscribed to, but one could get an  _ awful _ lot of insight to the heart through the mind. How could a heart’s desires be realized without thought? How else could a heart make a body  _ feel _ ? He’d used this working of the inner mind to manipulate people, break them. He’d never used it to  _ heal _ .

He pulled books on abnormal psychology, therapies. Very quickly he discovered that the ideal way to heal oneself using therapy would be to, well, go to a therapist. Doubtful there was one around here, and even if there were, how could Ienzo just  _ go _ , given what he’d done to this town? He’d have to take matters into his own hands. Be his own sounding board. He wasn’t sure it was possible. 

“Oh, Ienzo, I would’ve hoped you’d be out enjoying this lovely day.”

He started a little, almost dropping his volumes. “Master.”

Ansem cocked his head slightly. He’d shed the red stole and jacket--likely it was very warm in the computer room. Seeing him, too, without the frame of his coat was jarring. “Enough of this “Master” nonsense,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “I’m a king no longer, and I am your father. I insist you call me by my name.”

Ienzo blinked. “Are you quite sure?”

He gave him a look. “Why should you submit to me when we’re working together as equals? Besides… that choice was questionable enough when you were younger--though I’m sure hearing everyone else say it didn’t help.”

“Monkey see monkey do,” Ienzo muttered. “Alright.  _ Ansem. _ ” The name felt weird in his mouth, halved.

Ansem chuckled. “Indeed. What is it you were reading about?”

Ienzo considered lying. But doubtless Even had told him everything, at least the physical side of it, used it as an excuse to yell at the man. “Abnormal psychology,” he admitted.

“Is that… relevant to current events?” Ansem asked, not without caution. 

“Quite,” Ienzo said. He cleared his throat. “I am… very anxious, and struggling to learn to feel. Well, no. I do feel. It’s merely--”

“Unfamiliar and therefore difficult to internalize.”

“Yes.”

“I was told to… make my new devotion my humanity.” He sneered.

Ansem looked confused. “As though that’s a bad or shameful thing?”’

“Isn’t it? I can barely work anymore without completely falling apart.”

“Your body has changed radically--and the presence of a heart is doubtless a new variable to the experiment called “Ienzo.””

This made him laugh. “It does  _ indeed _ feel like an experiment.”

“You’re being too harsh on yourself,” Ansem said. “You worked so hard to provide Roxas and Naminé with new bodies. You need  _ time _ . Thankfully, we do not have the threat of Xehanort’s  _ apocalypse _ looming over us. Radiant Garden is whole and you are well.”

“But Sora could be slipping away day by day--”

“He could be, but likely isn’t. You forget I in my own way spent time with that child.” He sighed. He’d told Ienzo the story about DiZ shortly after they’d been reunited. “He is nothing if not tenacious. Just as we are reaching for him--he is reaching for us.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Ansem squeezed his shoulder. “Have you a few moments? Perhaps we could get some ice cream?”

“Didn’t you come here for a reason?”

Ansem shrugged. “These things can wait,” he said. “Come along, then.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo grows closer to Demyx, but that closeness quickly becomes a confounding variable.

He tried to let himself  _ grow _ . He spent those few hours in the lab, with Even and Ansem and Kairi. Dutifully, he continued to feed himself and sleep the requisite eight hours. He practiced normal black magic, unrelated to his power. Occasionally, considering they were now “friends,” he spent time with Demyx.

Ienzo wasn’t sure if he were simply unused to casual conversation, or if Demyx were truly eccentric. He did have quite a lot of amusing stories about his customers, as well as Scrooge, who was by all accounts quite the character. So slowly, Ienzo began to stop seeing their relationship as it used to be, and began seeing it as it was. After all, Demyx was one of the only people he knew roughly his age.

They walked, got lunch and endless cups of coffee. Ienzo found himself… looking forward to it, whenever Demyx asked him to meet up, rather than dreading those texts. A handful of times he accompanied Demyx on deliveries, and found to his surprise that he was indeed competent at his job. Scrooge tried to rope Ienzo into porting as well, in his own jovial, oddly-accented way, and he had to evade out of the conversation quickly. 

But beneath these pieces… something else began to emerge, something Ienzo initially confused for companionship, or kinship. A warmth, a start of the heart. He no longer minded when Demyx touched him casually in conversation--a hand on the shoulder, a playful punch, a “hey come on” take of the hand when going somewhere. The touch… evoked something in him, vague and weirdly insidious.

Ienzo began to notice things.

The subtle way his hair blended, brown to blonde, the way he seemed to be so slowly growing it into something different. The precise color green his eyes turned when light hit them  _ just right. _ How easily he moved through space, how comfortable he was in his own body. The way his lips moved when he spoke, the rhythm of his speech.

Why was it Ienzo was focusing on these things? What did it mean?

On the verge of sleep, weighed down by one of his pills, it came to him.

Oh. Oh  _ no. _

In his brief hours in the lab he was distracted, terrified. He thought he’d understood this as a Nobody, but it was clear  _ he’d had no idea. _

His humanity was waking up. So were… other things.

Demyx had mentioned a desire for a partner of some sort. Unlikely at the time he’d meant Ienzo. Ienzo had written all of that off as too difficult to compute. He figured he may be asexual and was fine with that. He’d no need for anything physical. Messy. Complicated.

He… was not asexual.

Ienzo began to feel something almost like a pull, between them. A desire for that innocent touch, a squeeze of the hand. Was it possible he felt this way because, again, Demyx was the only person he knew his age? It seemed natural that, with the awakening of these feelings, he’d latch onto whoever was closest.

It made him feel pathetic, and not quite in control of himself, not that he changed his outward interactions. If emotions were difficult to reign, hormones were completely impossible. He started having vague dreams of longing--arguably worse than the nightmares--and woke up frustrated in a wholly new way. Difficult, and embarrassing, to be finishing puberty at this age. He said nothing about it to anyone. Those few times he woke to find stains on his sheets and clothing, he took care of it and pretended nothing happened. 

Why did this have to be happening  _ now _ ? Of all the confounding variables?

Ienzo needed to ride out this attraction until its inevitable end. To even entertain the idea of anything more substantial than quickly-quashed daydreams was insane. So, sweetly he asked Even if,  _ considering he’s feeling so much better _ , he may add a few more hours to his day,  _ and thank you so much for the medicine _ . Ego stroked and paternity soothed, Even agreed. With his remaining hours, he began so tentatively to work on his power.

He could still manipulate the lexicon with relative ease, so that had been gained. Finding the illusion was going to be so much harder. He spent hours trying to recall how that felt, to create things where there was nothing, then trying to draw simple objects from memory. And they  _ were _ drawings, barely-perceptible flickerings in the air, but the exertion still made him gasp for breath. Though it was progress. At least Ienzo had something to tell Kairi and Riku when he saw them face to face, or over the phone. At least he could give them hope.

But Demyx wasn’t that easy to brush off. “Zo, are you ignoring me?” he asked. His tone was joking, but Ienzo felt vaguely caught. (And vaguely angry that “Zo” was growing on him.)

“I’ve been taking a few more hours since I’ve been doing better,” he said. 

“You’re not… pushing it too hard, are you?” he asked.

“I’m trying not to.” And he was; with magic use, he needed to be doubly careful how he treated his body.

Was it the light, or did he blush? “I miss our hangouts.”

Just the right thing to trip Ienzo up, to make his heart flutter-- _ it’s merely hormones, control yourself. _ “As do I.”

“I mean, I know this is like, important, big-picture stuff. But…” He hesitated. “Do you… have time, later? Just to talk?”

The sensible thing to do would be to nicely brush him off. “Maybe a few moments,” he said instead. How strange, to be at odds with his mind. A first. 

He smiled. It was a wide, uncontained grin, one that changed his face, made it seem softer. “The greenhouse?”

Ienzo nodded once. “I’ll see you then.”

Only once he had returned to scouring data did he realize that getting both of them together in an enclosed, private space was one of the stupider moves he could’ve made. Demyx had blushed. Demyx had  _ smiled. _ Was it possible that this… whatever it was… was mutual? Or was Demyx also merely feeling the backlog of hormonal impulses blunted by Nobody biology? 

(And did it matter? Would it be so terrible to  _ explore _ these feelings?)

(Yes, it would. Should it go south--the likely conclusion--they still lived together. He didn’t need  _ more _ tension in his life.)

Ienzo should’ve made up an excuse that night and stayed in. He didn’t. He was so unused to managing impulses that he simply  _ didn’t _ . Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The summer evening was cool, and he could hear the soft chirp of crickets. The air felt nice on his skin, freed at last from that infernal white coat and ascot at the throat. There was already a warm light emanating from the greenhouse, meaning Demyx was already there.

Not too late to turn back.

He took a deep breath. Took two.

The music he heard was soft, meandering, inviting. He’d never really  _ listened _ to Demyx before when he played sitar, stubbornly tuning it out. Ienzo realized he was rather  _ good _ , technically and aurally; it sounded light, effortless, the notes graceful and leaping like water. The boy’s power made sense, now. It all  _ flowed. _

Demyx wasn’t a scientist, but he was a student in his own ways. Ienzo felt the blood rush to his face. His hands trembled. His own internal protests were quickly waning. He opened the door. “Are you early, or am I late?”

Demyx looked up. The melody didn’t  _ quite _ cease. “Believe it or not, I can actually be on time.”

“...Sorry about that.”

“I wanted to work on this anyway.”

Ienzo sat on one of the cushions. The space smelled vaguely like incense, a heady but oddly clean scent. “That’s something of your own creation?”

“Yessir.”

“I suppose you were always… composing, creating. Is it very much different, now that you’ve a heart?”

Demyx snorted. “It’s harder.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “Really?”

“It’s easy to… approximate emotion,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “You know, this sounds like love, or anger, or whatever. To really  _ feel _ those things, and then, say, to try and work on something with a completely  _ different _ theme, is like wading through concrete.”

Hearing him speak so technically made Ienzo’s blush worsen. He wanted to reach out and take one of his hands. He gripped his ankle in an attempt to stop himself. “Have you been at this long?”

Demyx chuckled. “At least five years. Probably before that, I would guess, but… there’s nothing.” His expression changed, became wistful.

“Still? After all this time?”

He let the sitar vanish. The silence was particularly notable. “Yeah. I…” A laugh. “I had Even look at me. Neurologically, I think it’s called? There’s nothing…  _ physical _ about the memory loss. So it must’ve been… whatever brought me here, from the past.”

“Forgive me… I quite forgot that’s the truth of your life.” Even had told him as such, scowlingly, in disbelief. 

Demyx shrugged. “You’ve got a lot on your mind. Sometimes  _ I  _ forget.”

“Do you want your memories?”

He leaned back on his hands. “I go back and forth,” he said. “On the one hand, not knowing about the trauma that’s, uh, for sure there is awesome. On the other… it’s like… who am I really, you know?”

“I remember everything, and I feel much the same,” Ienzo said softly.

His smile was sad now. He reached into a crate and pulled out two bottles.

“Beer?”

“Nah. I hate beer. Cider. It’s sweet. Want it?”

Ienzo doubted one drink would kill him. “...Why not.”

He popped the top for him. “Ha. That’s the spirit. I mean. You  _ are _ legal.”

He scoffed a little. The drink was fizzy, sweet and also metallic. It was a taste of summer, he thought. “I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you this is my first real drink.”

“Really?”

“...I was too young. Then, I never wanted to… cloud my mind.” Ienzo sighed. “I wouldn’t mind taking the edge off things.”

Demyx laughed a little. “Hate to break it to you, but I only have the two and I doubt you’ll get turnt off that.”

“...You’re probably right.” 

“Maybe you and me could go to the bar some time. Try it out.”

He looked into the mouth of the brown bottle. “Not sure nightlife is for me.”

“You never know until you try something.”

“I… suppose I should never say never.” After all, he’d never thought he’d like sitting here with Demyx, their knees almost touching. “Maybe. Yes, that might be nice.”

For a few moments they finished their drinks in silence. He definitely wasn’t drunk, or even tipsy, but he did feel a little warm. The lantern cast softened the room, almost pinkish. Perhaps it was the memories of calm here, perhaps it was the ambiance or simply not being alone, but Ienzo found himself… relaxing. The sudden lack of tension in his muscles felt strange. “I remember why I used to love this place. It’s very calming.”

“On a good day you can see the stars,” Demyx said. “Look. Here.” He reached over and snuffed out the lantern. “Lay back.”

The cushions were odd, lumpy. It wasn’t totally dark; there was enough moonlight for the silhouettes to be clear. Ienzo looked up through the crystal ceiling. “Been a while since I looked up,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“The feeling of insignificance. But it’s surprisingly reassuring.”

“You think?”

“Well, the world is bigger than just us, don’t you think?”

“I do,” he said softly. 

Ienzo could feel Demyx looking at him. A nervousness, a fizz, spread throughout his body, completely different than anxiety. Arguably, the opposite of it. He should fight this. Should get up and leave right now. Instead, he shifted, just slightly, onto his side so they were locking eyes. With a shaking hand, Demyx touched his cheek, a touch that made him shiver.

“...I…” Demyx’s voice cracked. “Have you also been… feeling this?”

So it was mutual. Oh. Oh, no. He tried to keep it together. He had to fight this. Didn’t want to. “Yes,” he admitted.

“Oh,” he said, very softly, with the same sort of fear Ienzo felt.

“I know.”

“I tried to stop.” He almost sounded as though he might cry.

“Me too.”

“What do we--do?”

“Well…” That touch did feel so nice. “As I see it… there are two options. We both walk out of here and forget this ever happened.”

“Or?”

He took a trembling breath. “We see it through.”

“What do you want?”

“I think…” He was trembling all over. “I think I would like to stop thinking.”

There was a moment when they both very clearly knew what was about to happen, but did nothing. Demyx inched closer to him, so they were almost touching; Ienzo could smell him again, the salt and ginger. He rested his hand on Demyx’s waist, and feeling the warmth of him under clothing was purely too much. 

They both met in the middle, awkward, not quite meeting one another’s lips the first time. Ienzo shifted up a little and tried again. Demyx’s lips were so soft against his own. It became clear very quickly that neither of them had done this before; they weren’t sure what to do. For some reason Ienzo figured Demyx had  _ some _ experience. After a moment they pulled apart.

“I suppose,” he began softly, still reeling more from the fact that he’d kissed more than the kiss itself, “It’s rather obvious I’ve never done this.”

He laughed a little. “I don’t think I have either--if I did, I don’t remember.”

“A learning curve, then.” He’d figured it’d have been natural, instant. He thought of the feel of Demyx’s lips. “Let’s try again.”

“Okay.”

It took a moment or so of fumbling and discomfort before they seemed to get it.  _ This _ was more what Ienzo thought it would feel like, a fragile give and take. It was all so  _ gentle _ . They were both shaking. He hadn’t realized how exhausting fighting this attraction had been. Giving into it made him feel more awake than he had in days.

He wanted to go further. Couldn’t. Already a dangerous frazzle of overstimulation was breaking over him. He wasn’t used to platonic touch, much less this; he was overloading his own wires. 

“I like this. I do,” Ienzo said. He felt his eyes watering, an anxiety of  _ too much too much _ threatening his tenuous moment of joy. “But I’m so… it’s so much. I have to…” He sat up and pulled away, shivering as if he were cold. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m afraid as a human… I get very overwhelmed by stimuli,” he forced out. “I used to as a child.”

“Oh,” he said softly. “Can I… how can I help?”

“I need space. Calm, quiet.”

“Should I go?”

He considered. Despite it all… the last thing he wanted to be was alone. “No, stay.”   



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo tries to come to terms with his and Demyx's newfound connection, on top of continuing to strengthen his magic.

On a purely literal level, this was all so… bizarre. Not only was it physically and emotionally jarring, but there was also the not-so-minor fact that the object of his attraction was  _ Demyx. _ This had to be in part--he thought (did he hope?) because he was Ienzo. Zexion would never put up with this.

(Or would he, had he felt such things earlier? Then again, Zexion couldn’t feel--that was the difference between his selves, wasn’t it?)

It didn’t help that this all was a fantastic way to silence the noise of his various ongoing existential and identity crises, considering they constantly invaded when he wasn’t at work. 

Stranger still, to have things to look forward to other than some form of self-sacrifice for the greater good. The greenhouse became a neutral space, a created space, where he could shed his masks and simply  _ be _ , and feel. Ienzo suspected Demyx may do the same.

For a while after that kiss, their touch was purely chaste. The handholding became embracing, became true cuddling, something he hadn’t experienced since he was a very small child, and truly this was  _ much  _ different than that, though innocent in its own way. To simply hold and be held overwhelmed him, and often he found himself shaking, his skin unused to contact. They would sit against one wall, Ienzo in Demyx’s lap, leaning against his shoulder. His smell was comforting, grounding. Sometimes they would talk, but often they just sat in silence, absorbing one another almost with embarrassment.

“...This feels nice,” Demyx said. He was stroking Ienzo’s hair, and Ienzo wondered if this was how cats felt when they purred, though no noise left him. 

“I’m afraid it’s through no effort of my own. My hair simply does what it wants. I gave up wrangling it years ago.”

He laughed a little, and Ienzo could feel it. “No. Sitting here like this.”

“It… is.” He felt the blood rush to his face. “Touch can be… incredibly reassuring. At least for humans.”

“It’s like my skin is thirsty.”

“...I know what you mean. As social creatures… we need people.” He scowled. “Much to my chagrin. It is entirely natural… and wholly irritating.”

Demyx laughed again. “You even resent things that feel good?”

“...I resent feelings in general. I do so wish I had control over them.”

“Turn them on and off at will?”

“Mostly off, but quite. Or at least… lower the volume.” He wrinkled his nose. “After so much numbness this is almost more than I can take. My heart is quite literally a child’s. To suddenly be shoved into an adult mind and body… makes me feel so tenuous.”

“...I don’t know. I like you as you are.”

Ienzo looked up, pulling away just the slightest. “Why?”

He seemed genuinely startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why should you?”

He furrowed his brows. “I dunno… now that we’re not constantly sniping at each other, I can kind of see… the person peeking out underneath.” He touched his cheek. Ienzo shuddered; it had nothing to do with the content of their conversation. “You’re so--funny.”

This was the last word he expected Demyx to use. “Am I,” he said dryly.

“Witty. Thoughtful. Selfless.”

“No, no. Please. Fluff up my ego, why don’t you.” He scowled.

“Why are you so hard on yourself?”

“Why am I--” He sputtered. “All the things I’ve done--”

His eyes took on an intensity Ienzo had rarely seen. “Is in the past. As you keep saying.”

Ienzo had to look away. “Do you forgive yourself, for what you did?”

“I’m trying to.”

“I want to.” It was a revelation to himself. “But I… I don’t know how to let go.”

“Maybe settle for feeling first.”

Demyx had a point. All this tamping down and derailment of emotion was not going to  _ make it go away _ . If he felt it--let it all come up--maybe he’d be in tatters, but there might just be something left underneath. Someone who could still do good. “You’ve become--painfully insightful,” he murmured. “I suppose you always were, and I was none the wiser.” Ienzo shook his head. “Where do you propose I start?”

He ran his thumb over Ienzo’s lower lip, a touch that brought with it another shiver. “I can think of one thing.”

Ienzo kissed him. It was easier this time than before, less awkward; they’d both caught on at this point. He felt Demyx’s hand on the small of his back and noted it, too, was shaking. To let this all in took conscious focus, an unraveling of the barriers which so far had kept him upright, functional. To melt and cede to his body and heart, rather than the mind and will. 

It helped that kissing felt rather lovely. Demyx kissed back with more insistence, and Ienzo matched him, his hands reaching up to grasp at the blonde hair (softer than he would have thought?). He was breathing hard, a juddery, unstable sound. This was not a terrifying breathlessness. This might be something worth testing, experimenting with, all of the sensations breaking over him new and yet somehow so old. Genetic, the desire for this sort of thing, he figured in brief snatches of consciousness. People were wired for it. He let this impulse run, and it should not have felt so liberating to give into  _ something _ for once, instead of his normal restraint. Ienzo ran his tongue along Demyx’s lip and heard the shallow--and not completely promising--sound of surprise he made. He pulled away. “I’m… sorry,” he said. 

He was flushed. “Don’t be sorry.” He touched his mouth. “I just--”

“Should we set boundaries?”

The flush darkened, reaching his ears. Curious, the power Ienzo had in that moment, to make him feel that way--but a power used for pleasure instead of pain. _Definitely_ something worth toying with. “I wasn’t expecting it… but I…” He seemed to make some kind of decision, and rather abruptly pulled Ienzo close again. He wondered if Demyx, too, was just trying to _feel._ This time he parted his lips, and let Ienzo in, and much like that first kiss it was awkward for a moment or so as they tried to learn. Ienzo’s hands, caught in the fabric of Demyx’s shirt, trembled. This was a deeper sort of pleasure, one that threatened to bleed into other places in his body, and the simple shock of this was enough to make him break away.

A normal result of such activity, he knew, but something completely unfamiliar to him. How  _ interesting _ , to feel this, the flush and flood of his own hormones, so long hidden by quirks of Nobody biology. It made him feel warm, strangely vulnerable, but also free. Like a chick about to take its first flight.

“Are you okay?” Demyx asked. He was breathing hard. 

“I was merely… taking a second to observe these feelings,” Ienzo said. “Do forgive me.” And kissed him again. He shifted his weight a little, so he was fully facing Demyx, thighs against hips. Hard to tell exactly with their clothing, but Ienzo was fairly sure he felt his--

It didn’t happen all at once, but he felt his own body reacting, hardening, and the shiver that passed through him was less pleasant than the last, this effortless freedom giving way to a pain of overstimulation. 

“I… I’m afraid I have to stop here.”

“I… feel the same… I’m dizzy.” He sounded it. “I didn’t think--”

“It would feel like this?” They both said almost at the same time. 

“It feels… good,” Demyx said. Ienzo pulled away from him, acutely aware of the new pressure between his legs. “But at the same time it’s almost like I can’t take it.”

“Too much too fast,” Ienzo agreed. He tried not to drop his eyes to his lap, to observe it. “Have you ever felt such things?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Felt--? You mean--?”

Embarrassed and glad for the curtain of his hair, he nodded. 

Demyx cleared his throat. “Not that I can remember, at least with someone else,” he admitted. “But it’s not… so unfamiliar? I guess? The, uh.” Ienzo prayed he wouldn’t say it, but he did, rubbing the back of his neck. “Boner?”

He flinched. All of these terms so crass and inelegant. “What you said when we first kissed. Did you mean it?”

He furrowed his brows. “I haven’t gone off and gotten laid in the meantime, if that’s what you’re asking. Think I would lose my shit--not in a good way.”

“I just don’t know how cautious to be. That is.” He swallowed. 

“How fast to take things?” Demyx offered. He nodded once. “Let’s play it by ear. Don’t think about it too hard.” He tucked a strand of hair behind Ienzo's ear. "But I'm definitely willing… to experiment with you."

The pressure worsened. "Can we change the subject?" He asked. "The more inconsequential, the better."

* * *

And it  _ did  _ feel like playing with fire. These feelings were quickly getting too large, too embodied. He  _ wanted. _ Ienzo had longed to be an adult for so long; he'd never anticipated it having its own challenges. In his rare moments alone, he found himself fantasizing about such things, about what it might be like to touch and be touched, take and be taken. Completely  _ normal _ thoughts to have, he knew logically, but at the same time, alien. Distracting, embarrassing. (Delicious.)

He never gave into the temptation to explore on his own, which he found odd given that would likely make things  _ much  _ more bearable. He tried to a few times, but the sight of his own body quickly caused self-consciousness to kill any longing. Easier to feel this way if he had someone else to focus on.

Not that it was all physical, between them, but it was easier to think that it was. He feared there may be something below it, the kissing and the joking, something new and startling. Why was it he felt more comfortable being himself around Demyx than around the men he’d known for ages, the ones who’d raised him? Especially those he’d forgiven so far? 

Demyx was also familiar with facades.

This realization came to him as he was trying to sleep. Much in the way Ienzo had feigned maturity, stability, tamping down hard on emotions, Demyx had feigned stupidity, obliviousness, kept himself under the radar. Neither of them had been their true selves in a long time, and allowing those masks to fall aside only deepened the bond between them.

He could stop this, he knew, stop these budding feelings in their tracks, let it all be about sex, or what have you. But did he want that? It was no doubt bad for his mental stability, already tenuous enough as it was. Would it truly be so terrible, to bond with someone? To trust them?

(Then again, all the people he’d trusted had betrayed him, or been pulled away from him.)

Demyx was so flighty. Who was to say that he, too, wouldn’t leave Ienzo? Why allow vulnerability when it would only grant pain? He did not need yet more angst. In all this, after all, he still had a job to do.

It was so… grueling.

During one of these endless hours training, he’d actually had to sink to his knees, his chest splitting like he’d run a marathon. Ienzo tried to catch his breath, his fingers working along the fabric of the cover of his lexicon. The magic fought him hard. Of course it should; pursuing this was unnatural. But if he didn’t, what else could he do? Work and work in supposed “research” while  _ nothing _ continued to be found? Despite returning to more-or-less a normal schedule, through gradual increases, nothing happened. If he had the power to make change, he was going to do something. No more sitting quietly in the background, refusing to dirty his hands.

The illusions refused to gather strength; they remained weak, flickery, intangible, no matter how hard he pulled or how much he tried to strengthen his other magics. Was this  _ all _ he was really capable of? 

Ienzo cried out in frustration and tossed the book. It splayed loosely on the stone floor of this room. A heat gathered in his face, equally from the embarrassment of losing control and a vague self-loathing.

_ Calm yourself. Focus. _

He crossed his legs and shut his eyes, which were hot and ached. He tried to take deep breaths, focus on the way the air felt in his lungs. Calm, as ever Zexion was. Smooth, steady breaths. Let the memories run. Imagine how they may feel.

He pretended a patch of grass, so like the grass in the gardens he used to play in as a child. The smoothness of the blades against his fingertips, the coolness and dampness of dew. Keep breathing. Push the sensation outside of the body.

The first thing he thought was,  _ it’s small. _ Maybe two meters square. He reached down and touched it, feeling that familiar dissonance of knowing this was fake and made, but at the same time, his own mind was fooled.

Perhaps the key was not using Zexion’s memories, but Ienzo’s. But there were so few of those--years he’d been too young to remember, and only some months since he’d been here again. How to gather data for use in his memory, and ergo illusion?

A stab of pain in his head shattered the illusion. He needed rest.   
  
“Zo… you look…”

Ienzo glared at Demyx, daring him to say something. He sat down weakly on one of the cushions. His body felt so heavy, despite the fact that he was fairly sure he’d lost weight. He'd been trying to keep up with his caloric intake, but the illusions seemed to require pure vitality.

“ _ Terrible _ ,” Demyx asserted, despite the harsh look. “Did you get any sleep at all recently?” He craned his neck a little, to get a better look at him. “And what are--” He brushed his fingers along the inside of his wrist. “You’re all bruised.” He grasped Ienzo’s hand and pushed the sleeve up farther, despite Ienzo’s efforts to pull away. Demyx was physically stronger than him; hauling packages would do that. “How--”

“I’m afraid you got a little carried away the last time we were intimate.”

Demyx shot him a look which indicated Ienzo was full of shit. “Those don’t look like hickies.” In the lamplight, Ienzo had to admit the bruises did look gruesome; they were small, perhaps the size of coins, splotches in random places all along his body. He was infinitely glad there were none on his face. They  _ were _ just bruises--not darkness, as he’d initially feared. Some were already yellowing and fading away. Demyx handled his wrist gently, then grasped it; Ienzo realized he was trying to gauge if someone had grabbed him. The bruises  _ were _ finger-sized, he realized, if a man had large hands. 

“I was not in any fights, if that’s what you were wondering,” he said quickly. “I bruise easily--I always have. Must’ve knocked into something and not realized it.” 

“These aren’t contact points,” Demyx said. His gaze was sharp. “Cut the crap. What really happened?”

He sighed. “I almost miss the days you pretended to be oblivious.”

“Ienzo.”

He huffed through his teeth--and gave him part of the truth. “I’m trying to strengthen my magic,” he admitted. “It was greatly weakened during my reformation. The… training is having odd effects on my body.”

“Because you’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said. “You work like a million hours during the day, and if you train at night--” He put a hand to his forehead. “Of course without sleep the magic is going to literally suck the life out of you.”

“Since when are you a medical and magical expert?”

Demyx scowled. “You know I  _ listen _ to you guys when you talk, right?” He took both of Ienzo’s hands. “Zo. Please. You need to be easier on yourself. You don’t  _ need _ magic right now.”

To his surprise, he felt tears in his eyes, tremulous and hot. “But I do.”

“Why? You were never a fighter.”

He had two options, each of which seemed equally arduous. He could tell Demyx the truth and force into the open his own recklessness; or he could lie and risk damaging the one bond he had. “I--”

He was almost funnily serious. “Ienzo.”

“I’m trying to get my power back.” Like opening Pandora’s box. 

Demyx's eyebrows shot up; then he turned pale. " _ Can _ you?"

"It's coming back weakly--but it  _ is _ coming back. It's simply exhausting. I wish to… use it to help Sora. I have power over memory, to see it--that's part of how I created illusions. If I can  _ see _ the bond's of Kairi's heart…" He exhaled. Demyx didn't need to know of the inevitable price. 

"Will it hurt you?"

"It's unclear." The closest his conscience would let him get to a lie.

"Ienzo--"

"This was my decision, Demyx. I want this. I wish to help, however I can."

He still looked worried. "Is there anything  _ I _ can do for you?"

He was so exhausted. "You could hold me," he said.

Demyx touched his face. "Will you let Even look at you?"

Ienzo blanched. If Even found out--

"Or Aerith? She's a healer."

He hesitated. "That would be prudent, wouldn't it?"

"I could go with you."

"Perhaps… I could use the air…" He settled back against Demyx and felt him slip his arms around Ienzo's waist. Demyx took his bruised wrist gently and kissed along the marks, making him shiver. "That's nice." 

"Why don't you nap for a little while?" Demyx asked. "I'll stay with you."

"Yes… maybe…" His eyelids were so heavy. "Fifteen… twenty minutes…"

"Just sleep."

Ienzo drifted. 

When he woke, it was light out. He was wrapped in blankets and on a mattress of cushions. He'd slept hard, hard enough to not notice any of this, a rarity. There was a handwritten note by his head in Demyx's neat, painstaking writing--

_ Zo, _

_ To be fair, I  _ _ did _ _ try to wake you, but you just wouldn't. I would've stayed until you woke up, but I had to get to work. I left some ether and water for you. You should finish it. _

_ Please get some rest. And don't be mad. _

_ See you, _

_ D _

He groaned a little as he sat up. His head was pounding, though the drinks he'd been left helped. The worst of the bruises began to fade as the ether seeped into his system. He checked the time and felt his heart jolt; it was a little after noon, meaning he'd been unconscious close to sixteen hours. 

He was late.

Ienzo groaned again, more in frustration than anything. Very well. 

"Oh, Ienzo. So  _ kind _ of you to join us," Even said, when he got there. 

He ignored the barb and walked over to the computer, to pick up a tablet. "I thought I was working too hard," he said instead.

"Yet--you've again been stepping up your time here. Don't think I haven't noticed, boy."

He sighed. "I am very much well."

"That so."

"Yes," he said. "It is."

"I'm sure Ienzo had things he needed to wrap up," Ansem said diplomatically. "If you feel you are well enough to work, then you are. Yes?"

"Quite." He went over to Kairi. He'd done some reading recently, about ways to channel magic through touch; he wondered if this might help his floundering power. As casually as possible, he reached for her wrist, as if to take a pulse.  _ Help me. _

He tried to let his power feel for her; and to his shock and delight, he could  _ sense _ her light reaching back, beckoning. She'd been waiting for this. He gave her hand one more gentle squeeze.  _ I'll come back later, _ he thought, and hoped she got the gist of the sentiment. 

He did, too, weathering another not-quite-argument of Even and Ansem's. Once they had finally, finally left for the day… he approached.

Kairi grasped at him with the same willingness as before. Ienzo shut his eyes. It was imperfect, weakened,  _ painful, _ but he could see snatches of her memory--the island, the bright saturated color, days and days of playing in the sand and surf, adventuring as they may, and Sora--

Ienzo was abruptly thrown from her mind. His head was aching and he could scarcely breathe. Was Sora's disappearance to blame? Was he simply too weak? His nose was also bleeding rather heavily, and he thanked the stars he actually had a handkerchief with him.  _ I'm sorry. I'm not yet strong enough. _

She slept.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo and Demyx grow closer, and this has an unexpected effect on Ienzo's power.

At least time with Demyx was forgiving. Time he didn't have to worry about anything other than being Ienzo. He listened to Demyx play sitar, a lulling song that threatened to ease him into sleep. 

"You doing okay?"

"I'm enjoying your song," he said simply. "Do go on."

It shifted, becoming a little warmer, more whimsical, the tempo more upbeat, Ienzo thought he heard longing within it, desire. He exhaled slowly, his heart starting to catch. "You could have just asked, if you wanted to kiss me," he said dryly.

"I  _ wanted _ to be romantic. Sue me."

He laughed a little. "It  _ is _ nice, to be appreciated. Yes. Maybe I  _ should _ make you work harder."

Demyx's smile was more of a smirk. He let the sitar fade and leaned over to kiss him.

It was fascinating, how quickly they'd become accustomed to one another. Demyx pulled his hands through Ienzo's hair. Ienzo moved closer. There was no space between them anymore, and the feeling of Demyx's strong, lean body had him again coming up on that point where feelings bled into each other. Ienzo gave permission to himself to stop thinking for a few moments, helped along greatly by the way Demyx kissed him, his tongue moving  _ so _ nicely. Maybe he  _ had _ done this before--or was simply talented. He responded eagerly, running his hands along Demyx's back, feeling at the smooth, wiry muscles. The want was back, and stronger. Maybe this time his body would actually let him enjoy things, rather than forcing him to a point of anxiety.

One way to find out.

Ienzo pulled away from the kiss and settled into Demyx's lap, not quite straddling him considering he was still sitting. "Is this alright?"

His face was flushed. "More than."

"Good. Do tell me--if it ever isn't."

"And you too." He kissed him again, more deeply than before, and Ienzo's heart was racing. He settled down against Demyx more comfortably, looping his arms around his shoulders. Demyx pulled away from the kiss and instead trailed down Ienzo's jaw and throat, a curiously electric sensation that he examined with interest. He could feel it happening again, his dick hardening, though it was less jarring now than before. It was hard to reciprocate like this. One of Demyx's hands reached up to the buttons at the top of Ienzo's shirt--

He jerked as though he'd been shocked.

"I'm sorry," Demyx said. "I'm so sorry."

The pleasure was rapidly giving way to an anxiety, but not overstimulation. "It's not that," he said slowly. "I… how to put this. I have a scar."

He cocked his head slightly. "I think we all do."

"The implications of it are rather gruesome. Not at all… attractive."

Demyx frowned. "I don't follow."

"From my Nobody's death," he said thickly. He took a deep breath. "Here. Let me--"

"You don't have to--"

"It'll happen sooner or later. Best now than then." His hands were shaking so hard he could barely undo the buttons. It was… odd, to slide off his shirt in front of another person. He felt exposed on multiple levels and couldn't meet Demyx's eyes. 

"Oh," he said softly. "Oh, Ienzo."

"Believe it or not, this is better than it was," he said. "It was originally… much more bruised."

Demyx almost looked as if he would touch it. He looked more concerned than repulsed, which was surprising. "Can I ask--how?"

He nodded. "In Castle Oblivion… Axel had the Riku replica strangle me. The darkness… held me fast, and cut into me all around, like a noose." He shuddered. 

Demyx touched his shoulder. "That's awful. Are you okay?"

"I do have… nightmares," he admitted. "And I cannot bear to be backed into corners."

He thought about this for a moment. "Can I touch it?" He asked.

Ienzo braced himself, and nodded. He thought the feeling of hands on his throat might be triggering, but Demyx avoided his windpipe, tracing the scar gently with his fingers. The scratch of his calluses against the hypersensitive skin chased away the rest of his fear. "That does feel nice," he said slowly. He swallowed and felt a lump in his throat. Why was he emotional?

"What about this?" He kissed it once, as though asking for permission, and when Ienzo didn't pull away, he kissed it again, and again.

Ienzo was surprised at the intensity of the sensation. He gasped out loud and felt tension blooming in his stomach. He pulled Demyx a little closer. To feel his hands on Ienzo's bare skin was so  _ beautiful _ , and for the first time Ienzo was glad they were both here and human. He reached for the hem of Demyx's shirt and likewise felt him tense. 

He laughed softly. "While we're trading stories." He slipped off the t-shirt and let it fall. 

Ienzo felt more than a little concerned. Demyx had  _ substantially _ more scarring along his chest than Ienzo did; some of it was old, thin and whitened, but some of it looked new, pink and rippled, particularly near his back, his ribs. "This is what bothers you when you work," Ienzo said. "Is this from--?"

"Golden boy Sora?" He grimaced. "Yeah. It wasn't fun. But the rest… must have come from the time before."

"The trauma you were afraid of," Ienzo realized. "Oh…"

"Not exactly fun and flirty," Demyx said. His eyes were watering, and he blinked hard.

Ienzo touched his face. "This doesn't change how I feel," he said. "If anything…" Being this vulnerable was freeing. "You're so strong."

"Hardly."

" _ Really _ ," Ienzo said. 

"You're gonna make me cry, Zo."

"What if I did this?" He kissed the scars at his shoulders, for a moment in awe that skin, too, had its own taste. Demyx exhaled, a short, sharp sound.

“That’s good,” he said breathily. 

Ienzo kept exploring him. He hadn’t necessarily  _ meant _ for things to get so hot and heavy, but he found he didn’t mind. He waited for his body to tell him to stop. Perhaps he was used to this feeling of touch by now. They eased down so gently onto the floor, which made it easier to reach the scars lower down. A small sound caught in Demyx’s throat. Knowing he  _ could _ make someone else feel this good was in itself a reward. 

“Zo?”

He looked up. 

“You’re kind of--leaning really hard on me.”

He was right; Ienzo wasn’t only letting him take most of his weight, but was also, well, grinding against him. “I suppose there’s more etiquette to this than it seems,” he said breathlessly.

Demyx laughed. “It’s okay. It’s just that the, uh, zipper is kind rubbing right against--”

“...That does not sound pleasant,” he agreed, a flush of embarrassment rising in his face. There was a tick of silence which was more awkward than the last. “Would it help if I took your pants off? Or…” He swallowed. “Is that going too far?”

He touched Ienzo’s face. “You can take them off.”

His heart skipped again. “Okay.” It was clear something more than a kiss was about to happen here. But what? And why did he feel unprepared? It wasn’t as though Demyx wasn’t in the same situation as him in terms of experience. Ienzo’s hands trembled as he struggled to undo the button, the fly. More than a little awkward, to try and ease out of these clothes the way they were positioned. His own slacks, too, seemed much more complicated than normal, and the socks, too. No romance novel he could recall ever mentioned anyone removing socks. Undressing was always made to seem  _ sexy _ , but it just felt like a chore in actuality. He settled back down against him, remembering to take his weight onto his elbows.

Feeling Demyx’s body so  _ fully _ against Ienzo’s almost made him feel as though he might combust. He could feel Demyx’s dick through the thin fabric of their underwear, right up against his own, and for a few minutes they just kissed and moved against one another, like tides. Ienzo was getting more insight than ever as to why people bonded so strongly; all of these sensations so lush, and freeing, his body suddenly much more than something dreadingly carried around and taken care of. 

He wanted whatever came next. Badly. Demyx kissed his throat, his chest, pulling him still closer until they felt vaguely fused. “Demyx?”

He barely looked up from what he was doing. “What?”

“Can we go further?”

So slowly, he made eye contact.

“Not… not the whole thing. But maybe…”

“Touching?” Demyx offered.

Ienzo nodded. “Would you want that?”

“God, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Are you… ready for that?”

“I don’t feel that same dreadful overstimulation. Not yet.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Demyx kissed him on the mouth, then let go of him as they struggled to remove underwear. The lantern light was dim, but being able to see him fully evoked an emotion that threatened to choke him. “Look at you,” Demyx said softly, running a finger down along Ienzo’s chest. 

“I could… say the same.” He’d never been naked in front of someone else--that he could recall, anyway. The sense of exposure, of vulnerability, only tightened the emotion. It was not time to cry. His hands trembled as he touched Demyx's thighs, so slowly gathering the nerve to bring his hand up and touch his dick. The skin was warm, feverish. Demyx moaned a little, a sound that raised the fine hairs on his arms. Ienzo wasn’t quite sure how to do it; his own personal attempts had never been successful. “Like this?”

“More towards the--here.” He adjusted Ienzo’s hand. “See how this feels?” He reached down to take Ienzo’s own dick into his hand, and for a moment the shock of being touched was all he could comprehend, but then he began to notice the subtleties, his palm against the tip of it. Ienzo tried to copy that. 

“So you’ve done this before?”

“...To myself.”

Not surprising; it was a normal thing to do. He turned his focus back to his body, on the slow, complex tension building inside of him. It was almost sweet. Already he could feel the urgency of it rising. He’d never consciously felt this way. He pressed a bit harder against Demyx’s palm. He wanted to know everything. This was all so  _ interesting, _ the way his body felt, and how gratifying it was to also please someone else. Ienzo kissed him softly. 

The outside world slid out of focus, and the anxious noise in his mind quieted. This felt almost better than the hand along his dick. Demyx’s other hand tangled in his hair, making Ienzo shiver. To simply  _ be _ and take this all in made him feel so… human. 

The rising sensation was growing tighter, taughter, and needier. He could hear himself gasping.

“Are you close?” Demyx asked breathlessly.

“I think--I’m not entirely sure--” 

He was being kissed. There was just silence and, oddly, a sort of peace. Ienzo felt it break over him, a smooth sort of shock, warm and strangely recognizable as the pale shadow that he’d felt during those dreams. He heard a small sound catch in his throat.

So.  _ This _ was what all the fuss was about.

It did feel so lovely. So natural. The second he had enough control of himself he tightened his grip on Demyx, though it only took another moment or so before he, too, finished, muffling the noise he made against Ienzo’s shoulder.

For a moment all Ienzo could do was lay against him, despite mess. They both tried to gather themselves. He felt tears in his eyes, but was too tired to fight them. It had been a long while since he’d felt cared for. He’d never thought Demyx could be so… gentle, or tender. Ienzo felt as though steel wire had been taken to his heart, scrubbed it raw. At the same time, the sensation was not unpleasant. 

“Are you okay?” Demyx asked.

He sniffled. “I’m fine.” The first time in a long while it wasn’t a lie. 

Demyx brushed the tear away with one finger. “I know some people don’t, like, believe in virginity,” he said softly.

“I’m one of them, yes. It’s a social construct.”

“...Even so. A first time with someone… isn’t something to treat lightly.” His own voice was scratchy.

“I agree wholeheartedly.” There was no way this was merely physical. He realized he trusted Demyx; how else had he been so physically vulnerable? Was it possible there was more here than desire, than friendship?

Did he want that? Did he need that?

In the moment, and perhaps under the influence of the orgasm, the answer was  _ yes _ .

Demyx stroked his hair. “So this was fun.”

He laughed a little. “I’m definitely willing to explore this with you.”

* * *

It gave Ienzo something to look forward to. At least with the possibility of release, his hormones were no longer  _ so _ all-consuming. That sense of comfort, of calm, he felt when they were together was almost addicting.

And, considering the frustration of his work… it kept him sane.

Straightforward research continued to yield  _ nothing. _ Ansem programmed and ran simulations, but again, all was fruitless, and tensions in that room became higher and higher--

"How many times do I have to tell you that we can prove  _ nothing _ with your silly data? All these computer programs are mere frippery--" Even, his voice high and stressed.

Ansem never raised his voice, but the tone was very taught. "Such "frippery" kept Sora alive during his year of sleep. Such "frippery" might have the keys to the past, and the future. Forgive me, Even, but I don't see  _ you _ coming up with any earth shattering ideas--"

"Better than toying around with video games--"

" _ Enough _ ," Ienzo snapped. "I've had it up to  _ here _ with all of your arguing." The heat of the room didn't help; he could feel himself sweating under the heavy white cotton. "We're not going to make progress until you two hash it out." He crossed his arms. "Will you just talk to each other like adults? Scream at each other, fight, I don't care. I'm just  _ sick _ of the wittering."

They both seemed startled by his outburst. 

"Will you talk? Or what?"

Even dropped his eyes. "Where to begin," he said, almost wistfully.

"Quite," Ansem agreed. "I suppose things are neither easily forgotten nor easily forgiven." A sigh. "Ienzo's right. We cannot work well together if we cannot behave. Come, Even. I believe there's much to work through."

" _ Thank _ you," Ienzo said sourly.

Well. If they were gone.

He shed his lab coat. The AC was struggling to keep up with both the summer heat and the functioning of the CPU. Ienzo put it into sleep mode and approached Kairi. "Sorry about that," he said gently. He dragged a chair over to hers, sat, and took her hand.

His powers were stronger. Immediately and noticeably. Kairi's light latched onto him, warm and bolstering. He could see more of her memory now; running from the Organization with Naminé, walking home from school with Selphie. Her truncated months of Keyblade training, grueling but empowering to  _ finally _ be able to do something. Tentative friendship with Lea. 

Then, more painfully, through a veil, almost--hours in the Secret Place with Sora (Ienzo, tactfully, chose not to listen in), their separation and the fall of Destiny Islands, seeing Sora's body dissolve into light to release her heart--

Kairi took a sharp breath, her face crumpling, though she remained unconscious. Ienzo realized this process was as physically difficult for her as it was for him.  _ I'm sorry, _ he thought, and let go of her hand.

When he stood, he was dizzy. Why was his power  _ stronger? _ He wasn't about to complain, but there had to be a  _ reason. _

He'd embraced his humanity.

He'd stopped fighting it. Let it all in. Let himself be vulnerable, if so for a few moments. Sora's bond with Kairi, though chaster and more childish, was in essence the same as his with Demyx; it had given them the power to overcome the impossible.

The irony--embracing humanity giving him his Nobody abilities. No; much like Sora and Kairi's love gave them power to do something taboo, Ienzo's bond with Demyx would do the same. This would have a price--perhaps not as drastic or dramatic, but all the same.

Ienzo looked at his palms. The guilt was still there, thick and heady. All the people he'd indirectly killed--the least he could do was give the world its defender back. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo and Demyx go on a date, bringing Ienzo to a crucial realization.

"Let's do something," Demyx said.

"...Like?" 

He thought. "It's hot as hell. Let's go swimming. There are springs around here, right?"

"If I recall correctly." He was fine staying here, for another few hours of kissing or what have you. Heat, in this instance, did not bother Ienzo. 

"What do you say? We don't  _ have _ to be trapped here." His grin was back, goofy.

Ienzo considered. Since beginning their…  _ liaison, _ they hadn't really been in public together. He almost wondered if doing so would be a confession of some kind, a… coming out. He wasn't sure if he needed a label for himself. That it was  _ Demyx _ was bound to be confusing for everyone here.

But the people outside? Would they care? 

(And, as he thought about it, the idea of Demyx in a swimsuit  _ was _ appealing.)

"...Alright. Why not?"

"That's the spirit!"

They had to get appropriate things to wear. They got snacks, some more of that cider. Demyx led him through the outskirts of town. Despite having grown up here, Ienzo had rarely been allowed to explore this far out of the city. They were at the very cusp of civilization, in the deep canyons of rock crystal. The stone reflected the summer light, glinting in a way that made his breath catch. 

The spring was in an enclosed hollow. The sound of running water seemed loud after so much silence. The pool itself was not large--maybe six meters in diameter--but it seemed deep if the color of the water meant anything. There were no signs that anyone had been here recently--no footprints in the fine crystalline sand, no forgotten belongings.

They were completely alone.

"Trying to seduce me?" Ienzo asked dryly. 

Demyx was already stripping down. "I really  _ am _ hot," he said. "Working all day in the sun?" He pulled the swimsuit over his underwear.

"I hardly think that's necessary," Ienzo said. But he still looked over his shoulder as he slid off his clothing, down to his own underwear. 

"Beach day. Gotta look the part."

Ienzo shuddered as he tried to get the nylon on his skin; his body gave him a resounding  _ no. _ "I'm afraid you must settle for me like this."

Demyx gave him an appreciative once-over. "I can live with that." He turned and leapt into the water, only to surface with a "fuck!"

"Cold?" Ienzo asked, disappointed. Of course, it  _ was _ springwater.

"Uh, a  _ little. _ " He was gasping. "But it's a--god, it's a rush."

Ienzo considered. When he was young he used to interpret intense temperature changes as pain; considering what else carried over of that time, it was likely. But he'd also gotten used to touch so quickly. He took a deep breath, and jumped.

It  _ was _ cold, a cold that shocked his system. He surfaced with a gasp. Slowly, slowly… he felt it, a fizz of adrenaline, warming him and making him laugh out loud. "A  _ rush _ ," he agreed. 

"You take more risks now," Demyx said. "I like that."

Ienzo realized he was right. After all, was  _ this _ not the biggest gamble of them all? 

They swam for a little while, his body hesitant to get used to the cold. Demyx splashed him, but it was normal human splashing. "Do you ever miss your powers?" Ienzo asked.

"Ah--sometimes," Demyx admitted. "More, like, the benefits than the actual stuff itself. Like I never had to worry about being dehydrated, or overheating, or any of that."

"Things which would serve you very well in your line of work," Ienzo said softly. "Especially this time of year."

Demyx sighed heavily. "Ah--yeah. I actually had a real problem in the beginning, not drinking enough water. I almost passed out once. I'm not used to feeling thirsty."

"I  _ do _ hope you're taking care of yourself," Ienzo said.

"Yeah, yeah. Same for you, you know?" A pause. They both floated on their backs, staring at the light which reflected off the crystals. "I have Arpeggio. I was terrified that… if I became human… I would lose it." His voice had become softer, barely audible over the water. "That was what I knew as  _ me. _ Without memories… without  _ it _ … what's left?"

"A lot more," Ienzo said.

A snort. "Yeah, okay."

"I mean it." He was starting to shiver, his chest aching dully. "You continually surprise me. You're so gentle… so  _ kind _ … and so  _ smart. _ "

"I don't believe that."

"You may not be an academic, true. But the intelligence it takes to hide yourself the way you did? Your detailed reconnaissance? Facades must be calculated, which takes thought, effort… and you're almost painfully observational."

"You don't have to flatter me," he said softly.

"I mean it truly. I had thought, at first… well, we were simply too  _ different. _ But we have more in common than I thought. We could be… something real."

His tone warmed when he said, "yeah, I… want that."

"Me too." Something like a spasm of pain shot through him, and he gasped. 

"Zo?" Demyx stood. "You're shaking. Let's get out of the water." He helped Ienzo climb out of the pool. He grabbed their towels and tucked them around Ienzo's shoulders.

It was a dull ache in his chest. Was this from the cold? Or something else?

Demyx rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm him. He looked different with his hair loose. Softer. "You just got a little too cold," he said. "Your lips are blue. Breathe."

He tried. "Spoiling the fun again," he muttered.

"I always have fun with you," Demyx said simply. He sat next to him. "Here--this might help." He wrapped his arms loosely around him.

The warmth did help, and so slowly Ienzo stopped shivering, the ache fading. He hoped it was a fluke. "It  _ is _ why people evolved to cuddle. Share warmth."

"Better?" Demyx asked.

"Much. I had thought… because it didn't hurt, my sensitivity to cold would've faded." He smoothed the wet hair from his face. "In some ways my body feels so new."

"I know what you mean," Demyx said, with a sigh. "I used to love peanut butter sandwiches, you know? And now just thinking about them I heave."

"Tastes quite literally change," Ienzo remarked. "Otherwise--well. How would I have ended up with you?”

“Ouch! Rude.” Demyx laughed. “One thing that hasn’t changed is your sparkling wit.”

He chuckled. “I try. Though… I am glad for this. Not all confounding variables ruin the experiment--so to speak.”

Demyx touched Ienzo’s chin. “Your color’s normal again.” He kissed him once. “Yep, doesn’t feel cold.”

Ienzo rested his head against Demyx’s shoulder for a moment, just breathing in his smell and trying desperately not to think about that ache. “I don’t know. I think I could do with some warming.”

“...Maybe  _ you _ were trying to seduce  _ me _ .” Demyx kissed him again, a little more deeply this time. He tasted like the springwater, fresh and almost a little metallic. 

“...You seem pretty willing.”

They were lost in each other for a while, and Ienzo felt the last of the cold fading from his body, and while his heart raced, it was from something else entirely. He brought his hands up into Demyx’s wet hair and slid his tongue into his mouth.

This was probably one of the more normal things he’d ever done, he realized; plenty of other twenty-year-olds spent their summer days swimming and making out with partners. Perhaps this was why he didn’t resist when Demyx so carefully eased him onto the ground, bunching up the towels under his head as a makeshift pillow. “You don’t think anyone will come by?” Ienzo asked breathlessly.

“...I doubt it.” He pressed his lips against Ienzo’s throat; Ienzo could swear he felt tongue against his skin, but the sensation was dizzying, and he got hard. 

“Doing your own experiments, I see,” he said thickly.

“I want to make you feel good,” Demyx said softly. 

“Well, you’re succeeding.”

He returned to what he’d been doing; Ienzo pushed against him and felt the reaction. Odd to think he was already getting to know Demyx’s body, what he liked. “Would you want to try something?”

He felt something like a current flick through him. “Like what?”

The previous bravado seemed dented; he was nervous, a flush spreading across his face. “Could I… go down on you?”

“Oh…” Ienzo swallowed, feeling a sudden tremor in his own hands. “You don’t have to--”

“I want to.” He bit his lip. “If you’d be… into that.”

He thought about it; the idea alone just made him harder. “Yes. I would.” It was hard to speak.

His smile was twitchy, nervous. “Okay.” He kissed Ienzo once on the mouth and then moved down along him, so  _ slowly _ , his chest, his nipple, the fragile skin above his hips. By the time Demyx was taking off Ienzo’s underwear, he was a quivering wreck.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Ienzo asked, in a voice that did not quite sound like his own.

“Mostly by paying attention to how you react.”

The  _ tenderness _ of that statement just made him melt further. It felt a little weird to be naked against the bare ground, but Ienzo was beyond caring. Demyx stroked his dick one or twice, and kissed the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. The anticipation had him gasping.

“...Besides. Seeing you fall apart is… so hot.” 

This was a different sort of vulnerability, a sort of lack of control. To just cede everything and  _ feel _ opened up that rawness in him again. He’d never  _ not _ been in charge of their trysts, and letting go of that felt odd, but not unwelcome. Finally, after too long, he could feel Demyx’s lips against the tip of it, so much more intense than merely hands. He heard himself make a small, odd noise. 

“Let me know when you’re close,” Demyx said in a low voice.

Coherence was a lot to ask for. “...I’ll try.”

It was obvious Demyx had never done this; it was all a little clumsy, a little awkward. 

“Try more towards the…” Ienzo could barely form words. “And maybe move a bit?”

He listened. Feeling his tongue along those oh-so-sensitive nerves made Ienzo gasp out loud. He held fast to Demyx’s shoulders as he continued to figure it out, bobbing slightly against him. How  _ fascinating _ this was; it all felt so different than their encounters before, like he was unravelling, the tension growing tauter, faster. Ienzo could feel it all over his body. “Like that. Just like that.” Why had he fought his humanity so long, if it meant feeling like this? 

Demyx’s hands, wrapped around his thighs, were shaking. It seemed he was enjoying this as well, and for that Ienzo was grateful; he’d figured it was all complete submission with no reward for the giver.  _ To think I doubted him for so long _ , he thought, before he lost cohesion.

“I’m almost--” 

Demyx pulled away, taking his dick back into his hand. The strength of it was startling, and for a moment he felt faint, his joints turned vaguely to jelly. “So not that bad, I guess,” Demyx said, with a laugh. “I’ve never heard you make  _ that _ noise.”

A flush of something like embarrassment flooded his face. “I’ll show you,” he said softly.

He turned, if anything, redder. “You don’t have to now, it’s okay.”

“I want to make you feel as good.”

He shuddered. “So long as you’re sure.”

“Lay down,” Ienzo told him. He was still shaky, glad for the nerve the orgasm gave him. He helped Demyx out of his swimsuit. He, too, was curious to kiss that skin, which was not as delicate as his own. He worked at that scarring, down slowly. Ienzo wasn't sure how vocal he'd been; Demyx was making small, soft noises. He reached to stroke his dick, to make sure it was fully hard, only to realize that wasn't necessary. "You did work  _ so _ hard," he said in a low voice. "I'll take care of you." Before he lost that nerve he eased his mouth over it.

How  _ interesting. _

Natural yet not. He heard another sharp gasp from Demyx and felt him fumbling for one of his hands. He tried to copy what had been done to him. This certainly didn't  _ feel _ submissive; if anything, Demyx was  _ so _ vulnerable, so trusting. All Ienzo could do was hope to maintain that trust, moving against him, listening to his reactions and trying to repeat what seemed to be the most promising. He could feel he was taking it rather deeply, but felt no real discomfort, none of the infamous gagging. Was it possible he  _ liked _ doing this? 

"I'm close," he heard Demyx say, and much like Ienzo's voice had been unsteady, so was his. Ienzo took it out of his mouth and stroked him through it, gratifying in the moan he heard, the way Demyx's back arched just the slightest. 

Dazed, worn out, they held each other for as long as they dared. 

"Holy fuck," Demyx said. "I can… see why you felt the way you did."

"It's all so different." His voice was hoarse, he realized, and was somewhat embarrassed. 

"Yeah. I feel… I didn't even think…" He pressed a kiss against Ienzo's brow. "You didn't have to deepthroat me right out of the gate."

He flushed. "It just sort of  _ happened. _ "

"Hey, I'm not complaining." Demyx stroked his hair. Then, "I'm glad."

"What?"

"That we decided to see it through."

He softened. "Me too."

* * *

In the quiet of his room that night, scrubbed, teeth brushed, Ienzo considered.

This had begun as an overflow of hormones, both of them rather desperate in their new humanity. But despite that… despite the afternoons spent kissing and touching and little else… he suspected there was something deeper underneath, something that only grew every time Demyx said something that indicated he was listening, was  _ present, cared. _ The way he looked at Ienzo, with such tenderness, the way he handled him like something precious… it was quite possible Demyx loved him.

With equal clarity, it was quite possible Ienzo loved  _ him. _

He merely had to think it to know it was true. How else had he allowed vulnerability? Trust, especially after so many had betrayed him?  _ I love him,  _ he thought, just to force himself to verbalize it. Then,  _ I  _ am  _ capable of love. _

He felt tears on his face. Despite guilt and trauma, he was  _ not  _ broken. He simply  _ was. _ He was capable of… so much  _ more. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo reveals the truth of his relationship with Demyx, and for the first time seeks a future.

"...Ansem?"

Ansem looked up from the letter he was writing. The man had a gummiphone, and was a master programmer; Ienzo had no idea why he still physically wrote letters. "What is it, my boy?"

"Do you have a moment?"

"For you, Ienzo, always." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

As a child, Ienzo had spent hours in this study, in the rocking chair by the window, or else curled on the floor reading or solving the puzzles Ansem gave him. Just to be close to someone who cared was a comfort, despite Ansem's workload. Ansem would tell him stories, sometimes, in that gravelly voice, stories of worlds far away, of the past. 

"Is something on your mind?" His master--his  _ father _ \--asked.

He took a breath. "I wish to… come forward, with something," he began cautiously.

Ansem set aside his pen, his gaze focused. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes--well, insofar as it can be." Why was he nervous? "I have--I've been--"

"Is this about you and Demyx?"

He felt like he'd been punched. "How--?"

Ansem chuckled. "It's not rocket science," he said breezily. "You disappear, and you disappear  _ together. _ Even if you did not… I've seen the way you two look at each other, in hallways."

"Oh…" He dropped his eyes to his lap. "And the others… do they know?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I'm not sure what you're so afraid of, Ienzo. Homosexuality--or bisexuality, or what have you--is nothing anyone would look down on you for. We’re men of science--bigotry is not logical." He smiled.

"They have rather complicated feelings about Demyx."

"We all owe one another second chances," he said softly. "Does he treat you well?"

"Almost more than I deserve," he muttered. "He is… so much more than what I used to see."

"I'd suspected as much, in our brief conversations." He tapped his fingers together. "As long as you're happy with your choices. I want nothing more than to see you flourish." He crossed over and squeezed Ienzo's hands. "I thought I'd never get to see you grow up and fall in love. To see it… gives me peace."

His eyes watered. "I only hope I can live up to it."

Ansem smiled. "You already are."

* * *

At least there was that.

Whenever he trained, Ienzo again noticed that his power was  _ stronger. _ It was still not near the level it used to be. He still could not trick spatial perception; his hands passed right through the thin illusions. At least things  _ looked _ more substantial, full color and texture.

When Ienzo could, he sat with Kairi in her sleep. He could see more and more of her memories with ease; gradually, it caused them both less pain, though it still made his heart race and leap uncomfortably. Once or twice--especially and embarrassingly if he were doing something exerting, like lifting many books or having a tryst of some kind--he again felt that ache in his chest, on top of headaches. But what could he do, other than take care of himself, drink ethers, and gradually ease into this?

Time was passing. The weather was growing cooler, rainier. For several weeks they all passed around the same cold. The greenhouse, particularly at night, was growing almost unbearable in terms of temperature. But should they risk going to one of their bedrooms? Or finding another, warmer place? Like Ansem said, what was he so afraid of? 

“I have an idea,” Demyx said, as they so shiveringly pulled their clothing back on.

Ienzo rubbed his arms, trying to get the warmth back into them. “What?”

“Let me take you on a date. It’s about time, right?”

Ienzo wasn’t sure how to react. 

Demyx noticed this hesitation. “Is it… you’re not out yet, or--?”

He sighed. “I don’t know what I am,” he said. “But I have nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t  _ care _ what outside people think. But…”

He frowned. “Even and the others?”

Ienzo nodded. “Ansem already knows. He figured it out. Yet...” He took a deep breath. “It’s not fair to you, to keep this under wraps. So yes. I’ll go with you… and eat my table of crow. You’re so much more than you used to seem. That deserves to be celebrated… or shown off.”

Demyx kissed him. “I’ll eat it with you,” he said, with a laugh. 

So cautiously… when Ienzo had a moment alone with Even… he risked breaching it. “Even?”

“Ienzo?”

He bit his lip. “I must tell you something… and ask that you withhold judgement.”

He looked perturbed. “I think we’re beyond that.”

“I’m not so sure.” Ienzo sighed. He could feel his heart in his ears. “As of late I’ve been seeing someone.”

Even turned. This got his attention. “Romantically?”

“...Quite.”

A pause. His expression was unreadable. “...So things are working, then. I’d wondered, with your abnormal puberty.”

He felt a flush darken his face. “It is… embarrassing.”

“It’s wholly normal.” Even cocked his head. “Though admittedly that’s the last thing I expected to hear from  _ you _ . But you’re young. It is only natural to seek such things.”

He seemed to be handling this awfully maturely. “There’s something else.”

“I couldn’t care less if you’re gay,” he said, with a wave of his hand, and turned back to his work. 

He forced himself to spit it out. “The person I’m seeing is Demyx.”

“ _ Oh. _ ”

Ienzo bit his lip. There, he’d said it. He held his chin forward, defiantly. 

Even looked like he’d swallowed something sour. “How did…  _ that _ happen?”

His blush was almost painful. “We had… agreed to be friends. We… spent more time together, and then…”

He put a hand to his forehead. “He was the only person your age. A spring awakening… of sorts.” He exhaled heavily.

“I do believe it is more than that. But yes, that is… how things started.” He swallowed. 

An agonizing beat of silence. “Is it worth it?” Even asked. “Have you realized--should things go south--how  _ messy _ things can be here? Demyx was useful, yes, but he cannot provide you what you need. Do you even know  _ what _ you need, Ienzo?”

“Someone I can be vulnerable with. And that someone is so clearly not any of you.”

For a moment he seemed stricken, but then added, “I… see.”

“I need someone who can help me be myself. For all intents and purposes--he does. I cannot simply  _ be _ that person with the weight of the past everywhere.” He was breathing hard. “He is… so much more than he seems. He is so…  _ smart _ , so kind. Only he understands how alien humanity feels.”

Ienzo did not know what to read into that expression. “Is that… so?”

“...Yes.”

A sigh. He crossed his arms and looked down. “I knew things were difficult for you… I guess I have not helped with that, have I?”

“You did try,” Ienzo pointed out. 

“Even so, I…” Even nodded. 

“Humanity is about risks,” he said. “I am hoping this one will pay off.”

“For your sake, I do too. Very  _ well _ , Ienzo. You’re an adult. I won’t stop you. It is  _ good _ you’re feeling such things, and exploring them. If it works… well, then I am more a fool than I thought.” He laughed a little, a strange, dark sound. “Always under the radar, that one. Managing to either disappoint… or surprise.” He reached forward to squeeze Ienzo’s shoulder. “Be careful with your heart,” he said. “It may grow… or else it may break.”

“You say that as though you know.”

He started a little. Then, rather than getting defensive, “Perhaps I do. After all… well. I’ve let you down enough.”

“I would rather have a broken heart than a shriveled one.”

“Quite.” Even touched Ienzo’s face. “Yes… no need to… protect ourselves anymore. It is so strange. As Vexen I quite literally saw you grow up… yet now as Even, the transformation seems instant.” 

“You did raise me,” Ienzo pointed out.

“Not really. Not hardly. When you really needed me I betrayed you. No more.”

He felt emotion welling in him. “Thank you.”

* * *

Ienzo had not realized how much he’d worried about the truth coming out until it was done with. He felt freed. Admittedly, it did still feel a bit awkward, to be so open with Demyx in his own home, but the negative tension was no longer there.

He suspected he may feel something like happiness beginning in him, despite memories, despite the ever-present guilt that licked his veins. Despite nightmares. Because--with this love--his power was growing again stronger. He was  _ this close _ to helping people. If--once Ienzo could help Kairi find Sora--after all this he maintained this power, perhaps he could use it to help people work through their traumas, to lessen the weight of it. Something to look forward to.

“...You’re in a good mood tonight,” Demyx said. They’d brought a heater into the greenhouse, but even with it, it was still quite cold, and they huddled for warmth. They needed a solution.

“I feel I may be able to help people,” he said. “More than Sora. Maybe I can begin to make up for all the destruction I wrought.”

“I know you can,” Demyx said. “Maybe… I can help you.”

He softened. “I would like that very much.”

“I’ve met so many people, doing what I do,” he said softly. His eyes had taken on that distant, open gleam they often got when he was fully shedding his masks. “I’ve seen… firsthand, how it affects them. I… know I did this to other people. There has to be something I can do. However small. But more than delivering packages. I’m going to go to the committee. See what I can offer.”

“I’m sure they’d welcome you.” Ienzo rested his hand against Demyx’s neck. “Maybe there is a future for wretches like us.”

“I hope so,” Demyx said, and kissed him.

Why was it every time they kissed felt different? Like a new opportunity? Ienzo kept kissing him, letting his tongue brush against Demyx’s lips, only to feel it drawn in. For a moment they were only focused on one another before Demyx pulled away.

“We can’t stay here forever,” he said softly.

“I… know,” Ienzo said. “We have to come up with some kind of solution. But… both of our bedrooms are pretty close to the others’. It’s not… very feasible.”

“There have to be other rooms in this place. We just have to… find one.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he said sourly. “Yes, it is  _ quite _ necessary.”

“We’ve gotten used to each other awful quick,” Demyx said. He cupped Ienzo’s face. “A few months ago… I would’ve told someone they were batshit if they said I’d be with  _ Zexion. _ ”

“But you’re not,” he said softly. “You’re with me. And I’m with  _ you _ \--even if the name did not change.”

“...Right.” He smiled. “We can be better.”

“Yes. We will be.” He kissed him again, allowing it to get a little warmer--necessary in the cold, he told himself. He straddled Demyx, trailing his lips along his throat, and felt his strong hands along Ienzo’s back, working at his shirt. “I’ve… heard of something. I wonder if you’d be willing to try it.”

Demyx turned pink. “What’s that?”

“What we’ve been doing is all… well and good. But I feel able… to try new things. I wonder if you may feel the same.”

“That… depends.”

Nervousness made him jittery. “It’s pretty simple. We would… place ourselves between each other’s thighs, and… seek pleasure that way.”

Demyx smirked. ““Dick.” I want to hear you say it.”

“I am aware of the slang, yes.”

“You’re too cute.” He laughed a little. “That sounds kind of interesting. I’ve never heard of that.”

“...It was pretty buried in a book I read once.”

“You research these kinds of things?”

“It  _ has _ been in my realm of interest, yes. You have to admit… the whole ordeal, as it were, takes quite a bit of preparation, which is simply not feasible here. I’m  _ trying _ to be practical.”

“Well if it’s only  _ practical. _ ” He undid the buttons of Ienzo’s shirt. “Have to be practical, right?”

“Quite.” Ienzo felt his tongue along the scar and gasped a little, feeling the now-familiar sensation as he got hard. This was once so alien, but was now so normal. Had he simply had to get used to it? He reached down to help Demyx slip out of his pants, then to remove his own. He kissed Demyx’s chest, the smell and taste of him, feeling him buck up against Ienzo. Ienzo reached down to take Demyx’s dick into his hand.

“And I would go between your--?”

“Yes--ah--” 

“Maybe if--” He moved away from Ienzo, parting his own legs so that he might kneel between them. “Does that help?”

“...Yes.” Ienzo took a quick breath. Something like anticipation made him tremble, the notion of trying something new. It took a little fumbling to guide Demyx’s dick between his thighs. 

Demyx gasped a little. “Your skin is so soft. So I should just--”

“Try moving.”

He did. Ienzo could feel him so  _ acutely _ , against that oh-so sensitive skin of his inner thighs, making him shake with a sort of anticipation of his own. As Demyx became more comfortable, he thrusted less hesitantly, and Ienzo could feel every little movement, the tip of it brushing every now and again against the tender nerves of his ass, the sack of his balls, making him gasp with a pleasure of his own. This was all so  _ interesting. _

“This feels so--” Demyx breathed. He pulled Ienzo closer, tightening the arms around his waist, kissing his throat and shoulder. He started to push against him a little harder. “You’re so--”

Ienzo kissed him. He could feel Demyx at that edge and tensed the muscles of his thighs a little, hearing a moan in response. A moment later, he felt that subtle twitch as he finished, the warmth of it, a sound muffled against his skin. 

“You have to try this,” Demyx said thickly. He pulled away gently, making Ienzo shudder. They switched positions. Ienzo pressed his hands against his shoulders. Demyx took his dick into his hand and eased it between his own thighs.

He was right. This did feel  _ so _ intense in a wholly new way. To penetrate him--even just like this--was almost more than Ienzo could take, bright pleasure against every fragile nerve, not helped at all by the way Demyx was kissing his scar, his chest. Ienzo couldn’t help the gasping, the soft noises he was making. It was all entirely out of his control. He twitched his hips, feeling what he thought was Demyx’s own sack, and this only made him more excited. It was all so--

There was almost no warning. The shock of it almost made him faint, a rush of endorphins he could feel in every bit of his body, down along his spine, making the world a bit softer. Ienzo felt kisses being pressed against his cheek, his brow, but he was dizzy now. “Are you okay?” he heard, distantly.

“I need a moment,” he said, barely aware of the words.

“Lay down.” Ienzo was eased down onto a cushion, a blanket spread over him.

He wasn’t sure he had ever felt so vulnerable, almost not in control of himself. Ienzo felt the overstimulation like a wave, but it wasn’t negative. “It is quite something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I… would’ve never thought to do that.”

“Apparently lube makes the experience better.”

“We could do that next time,” Demyx said softly. “If you want to.”

Ienzo felt tears in his eyes. “I want to experience everything with you.”

Demyx kissed him once and pulled him close. “Me too.”

Ienzo almost said it. The words were at the tip of his tongue. But would it be disingenuous, to say such a thing right after such an act? Perhaps he might wait until he was a little more clear-headed… and able to make it more meaningful. "Can you hold me?"

Demyx pulled him close, and for a while they just rested.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo's humanity continues to influence his magic, and gives him an idea to further help Sora.

It took a little time, and a little deftness, to find another warmer space, one away from prying eyes but also close enough to running water (which, he realized, was likely necessary should things go further). After a few awkward weeks of messy and muffled rubbing in hidden corners, they found it, as well as a mattress which wasn't in awful condition. Getting it there without being noticed was also a task. Everyone might  _ know _ of their relationship, but they didn't need to hear things. Hard enough to be vulnerable in total privacy. Demyx brought all of his things in, the houseplants, the books and trinkets. Once it was finished, the bed made, it did look quite homey despite the lack of furniture.

Demyx flopped down. "Maybe I'll just start living here," he said. "This bed is so much better. Mine's tiny and like sleeping on a brick."

"Why didn't you say something?"

A shrug. "It wasn't that bad. But with work… the weather changes… my back hurts, like, a lot." He rubbed at it, wrinkling his nose.

Ienzo frowned. "Why don't you have someone look at it?"

"Guess I should, right? Imagine explaining that, though."

"Even and Aerith are both understanding of our situation." He sat down; the mattress was  _ much  _ nicer than those lumpy cushions. "To think. Months ago this was all the farthest thing from my mind--and now we must be clever, that it may go on."

Demyx smirked and tapped Ienzo's nose. "Most people our age do it like rabbits."

"...I suppose. Trials of being young." He smiled. 

He brushed a strand of hair from Ienzo's face. His gaze had softened. "I…" Demyx swallowed. "You know… I love you."

Ienzo's breath caught; he felt himself tearing up. "I'd hoped to say it first… you beat me to the punch. I  _ do _ love you. I… have for some time."

He smiled. "Really?"

"Believe it or not."

Demyx pulled him close. When he let go, Ienzo could see he was crying as well. "Well. That's good."

Ienzo laughed. "Yes." He kissed him. 

So that was it, then. This was no mere fling; it was becoming permanent. He kissed Demyx's throat, then reached to slip off his shirt. 

"We're here," he said softly. "Might as well take advantage."

They undressed slowly. "Thank fuck, it's so much warmer," Demyx said. He slipped his hand below Ienzo's waistband, fumbling for his dick. "I'm not sure I could ever get used to you."

The blood rushed to his face; he pressed a little harder against Demyx's hand before finally caving and removing his pants. "Well I'm not going anywhere any time soon," he said, and realized he  _ wanted _ a future. 

Demyx eased him down onto the mattress. It was  _ much _ more comfortable. "I, uh. Got stuff."

"...Saves me the embarrassment of doing it." He'd been trying to gather the nerve. "Do you want to do that? Again?"

He nodded. "I did like it." Demyx kissed him. He eased off his own pants and underwear and took Ienzo's dick into his hands. 

"I did too." 

"Take what you want from me."

"It feels good to be taken first," Ienzo admitted. "Where's the--"

"Oh! Right." He got up and padded over to one of the milk crates. Seeing him fully made Ienzo shudder. He came back with a small bottle. Ienzo opened his legs a little so Demyx could kneel between them. Demyx took some of the lube against his palm. "It's cold," he said. "Let it warm."

"So considerate," he said in a low voice. 

"I really try to be," he said softly. "After how careless I was."

Ienzo kissed him and felt him respond. He felt Demyx spread the lube along his dick, curious and slippery (though that was the point). He could feel his own heartbeat all the way down to the tip of it. It was a little easier to do this lying down. Easing between his thighs, Ienzo immediately noticed the difference; it was much easier to move, a slick warmth that must simulate the inside of him. “It’s much better,” he said breathlessly.

“It’s good for me too,” Demyx said. He kissed him and slid a palm under Ienzo’s back, lifting him up a little so he could thrust more easily.

Knowing they loved one another only heightened the feeling. Ienzo felt as though he were simply allowed to relax and enjoy him, to let his guard down fully and  _ feel _ . And there was a lot to feel; Demyx was kissing him so softly, running his free hand down along Ienzo’s sides, making him shiver. Much like before, things were a bit too intense, a bit too uncontrollable, but for once it wasn’t so awful to just unravel and lose himself within Demyx.

Looking back on it, thinking they could only sleep together was a pretty stupid idea.

Ienzo pressed a little harder against him. Demyx tightened his thighs; he couldn’t help the noise he made. His hands were trembling. He tried to take Demyx’s dick into his hand, but he was not fully in control.

Demyx kissed his cheek. “Relax. It’s okay. Seeing you like this is enough.”

The tension heightened substantially, and for a moment he crested along it before finally giving in, pulling Demyx against him, the shock of it making him spasm. “Where is it?” he asked.

“What? The--?” Demyx handed him the bottle. Ienzo took some of it onto his hands, trying to quell the shaking. He was already dizzy, and hoped he could keep it together long enough to please him.

He lubed Demyx gently, pressing his own legs tightly together. Ienzo helped him slide it against him and felt the shudder of overstimulation, though thankfully Demyx didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. 

It was simultaneously a pleasurable experience and something to be endured. Feeling Demyx thrust against his already hypersensitive skin made him feel something bordering pain, never  _ quite _ getting unbearable. Ienzo was still making small noises but couldn’t help it if his life depended on it. He tried to kiss, to touch, in an effort to keep himself grounded. 

After too long and not long enough, he heard Demyx moan, an almost new sound. Demyx pulled away gently, struggling for breath. It took him a moment to come to his senses. “...You’re shaking,” he said. “If it was too much for you--I could’ve just--”

“That’s ridiculous,” Ienzo said. “I wanted to do this.”

“Just relax. Breathe. What would help?”

“A blanket--the weight--”

Demyx complied. “If I held you?”

“Maybe over the blanket.”

He did so. All of the warmth and weight helped. “You didn’t have to push yourself.”

“I wanted to,” he stuttered. “It felt very nice for me too.”

“Lesson learned--you don’t go first.” He smiled a little. “It  _ is _ kind of the best foreplay.”

“Quite.” The shaking seemed to be stopping, and he was more in control of himself. Ienzo curled his hand in Demyx’s hair. 

“What is this… called?”

“...Called?” Ienzo echoed.

He blushed and shrugged a little. “I’ve been calling it thigh fucking in my head.”

“Well--essentially that’s what it is. Even so. None of these words are very euphonious, are they?” He sighed. ““Intercrural.””

Demyx repeated it. “Not very sexy.”

“No. But it’s what you make it, I guess.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I… need a little more time.”

Demyx sat up a little. “For what?”

“Were we to… take the next step.”

He looked perturbed. “I’m not worried about that.”

“...I know.”

Demyx touched his face with his clean hand. “We’ve got time, Zo,” he said. “We can take it slow. Enjoy the journey, you know?”

“Yes… you are… right.” He sighed. “You’ve been right about a lot of things. Too many, lately.”

Demyx laughed. 

* * *

Where to go from here?

What a comfort, to have someone. If Ienzo were having a bad day, or struggling, it was such a relief to have someone he could talk to. Likewise, being able to  _ provide _ comfort made him feel just the slightest bit less guilty.

He did still nightmare. When he was not being distracted by work, or training, or Demyx, it invaded. The thought of those people…

Ienzo had a future. They did not. He was going to use that future to do good, to help. Firstly to help Sora.

He decided to debrief with Kairi.

She didn’t look as healthy or as well as she did during the summer; Ienzo suspected he didn’t, either. He walked with her around the castle, both of them keeping their voices low.

“I feel like we’re closer to him than ever,” she said. “Feeling you seeing my memories… I feel like you can help link us. My light can’t do much more than foster that connection, than put out a… sort of beacon.” She shook her head. 

“I’m helping you aim it, so to speak,” Ienzo said. “My power is much stronger than it was those months ago--but still needs work. It still causes us too much pain to get so involved. I can barely see your memories of him without it causing us agony.”

“Is there a medicine we can take?” Kairi asked. “Or is it too risky?”

“At the moment I fear there’s too much risk. But should time pass… we might have to try it.” He thought about it. “If I were to go to sleep with you… link our consciousness… that might magnify the power.”

“And the risk,” she said. 

“...Quite,” he said. “I would need someone to put me to sleep, as well… which would mean involving another party.”

“What about Demyx?” she asked.

Ienzo shook his head. “He doesn’t have the scientific or magical background. And I wouldn’t want him to know--I’m afraid I left it vague, how much this could impact me.” He thought of the bruises which still popped up now and again.

“You love him,” she said.

“I… yes.”

“I felt your humanity grow so much stronger,” she admitted. “You love him… I love Sora.”

“I’ve made that connection as well.”

“It’s a shame you weren’t closer friends with Sora. That would’ve probably made this easier.”

She had a point. It came to him. “What about Naminé?”

Kairi cocked her head. “She’s human now too,” she said. “I don’t know if her power was like yours, tied to being a Nobody. But…” She bit her lip. “I’ll text her. Maybe she can help us. She knows his memories--his heart.” Her eyes flashed. “Why didn’t we think of this sooner?”

“Because the simplest solution is the easiest to overlook,” Ienzo said. “Isn’t she in Twilight Town with Roxas and his friends?”

Kairi nodded. “I’m sure Riku could grab her.”

Ienzo considered. Naminé’s powers were so ill-documented--even the files Ansem had about her did not go into detail. He hoped--prayed--that perhaps she retained her power, considering how unique of a Nobody she’d been. But at the same time… her body was a replica, essentially human. This could be dangerous too.

They’d just have to know what she had to say.

* * *

The response was almost instantaneous. “I’m in,” she said, when Kairi called her. “Just tell me what I have to do and I’ll do it.”

But this left Ienzo in an interesting position. Did he come clean completely? Else did he just say Naminé might be able to help? If she were going to attempt to use her power to, perhaps he could so  _ gently _ mention his own, that it had just so  _ happened _ to come back naturally.

This was still a lie.

What good were lies? Ienzo was going to need all the help he could get. Perhaps he should continue to eat crow and get it over with. Let all the facades fall. See what was left behind.

He decided to test the waters. “I think Kairi may have had something of a brainwave,” Ienzo began cautiously. 

“And what would that be?” Even asked flatly, his eyes on the screen in front of him.

“Naminé had power over memory--specifically Sora’s memory. Much as Kairi is connected--so is Naminé. And they’re connected to each other. If we were to use her power, we might stand a better chance of finding Sora.” A quick breath. “I’m not entirely certain if her power was that of a Nobody’s--or purely her own. She always  _ did _ refer to herself as a witch.”

Ansem put a hand to his beard. “That may be genius,” he said.

“Or it may kill her,” Even added. “Her body will behave like a human’s if it  _ is _ a Nobody power--i.e., poorly.”

“But we’re getting nowhere here,” Ienzo said. “Besides, I already spoke with her, and she’s willing to give it a try.”

Even’s eyes bulged. “Without discussing it with us first? Without discussing the  _ risk _ ?”

“Well what else are we to do?” Ienzo spat, with equal venom. “It’s been months, and we’re getting precisely  _ nowhere. _ We’re just wasting time, making Kairi lose her youth for nothing. We have options. It would be foolish not to use them--even if they are risky.” He tasted copper. “Isn’t research about risk?”

Ansem nodded slowly. “The boy has a point,” he said. “We can examine her. Take this as cautiously as we can.”

Ienzo felt as though he were standing over a chasm. “Moreover… there’s the obvious.” He took a breath. “My power worked with memory as well.”

Even’s eyebrows shot up. “Boy--”

“I’m aware of the consequences. Of the price. But if Naminé and I worked together--we may get somewhere. We might be able to save him. If I have these tools and refuse to use them, aren’t I complicit in his disappearance?”

There was nothing but silence, but Kairi’s deep breathing.

Even laughed. It was the last thing Ienzo expected to hear. “Oh, yes. Yes, it all makes sense now. Your radical weight loss--it had nothing to do with lack of self-care, did it?”

Ienzo swallowed. No backing out now. “...Only partially.”

Ansem’s complexion was ashen. “Isn’t that hurting you?”

“I have been taking as many precautions as possible,” Ienzo admitted, dropping his eyes against the floor. “Drinking ethers, sleeping and eating as much as I can, taking it… in small steps.”

“Entropy doesn’t care about small steps,” Even spat. He approached Ienzo and began feeling at his glands. “Let me look at you. This has been going on for months. I will not have you risking your heart again.”

Ansem sighed and shook his head, a lot. “Is this what your heart tells you to do? Deep, into the pit of your being?”

There was a lump in Ienzo’s throat. “Yes.”

Ansem took a step towards him. “It is not a result of wanting to salve your guilt? It is truly what you want?”

“I want to help people. I need to help people. Restoring Sora will give the world its protector back.” He was shaking.

Ansem’s expression was hard to read. “Even.”

“No,” Even said quickly.

“Even, we have to let the boy follow what his heart is telling him.”

“He’s going to end up dead,” Even said, a raw furrow in his voice. “He will not die again on my watch.”

Ansem put a hand on Even’s shoulder. “Then think of it this way. We  _ must _ instead devise a way to let Ienzo do this safely. He’s a grown man, an educated one. He must be trusted as such.”

Ienzo swore he saw tears in Even’s eyes, but he blinked them away. “Alright.”

“To be a researcher is to make impossible choices,” Ansem said softly. “For everyone’s sake--I hope this is the right one.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo and Even try to devise a way for him to safely use his Nobody's powers. Ienzo comes clean to Demyx.

It felt odd, to be the one being prodded, instead of doing the prodding. Actually  _ seeing _ , by the numbers, how this was impacting his body, was… sobering. (And also why he’d been avoiding it.) His lungs and heart were working harder to keep him alive, the muscles partially weakened by the entropy. His white blood cell count was low. Even started him on plasma, on steroids, more ether. 

“The only thing I can think of… is  _ sleep _ ,” Even said, pulling a hand through his long blonde hair. “We’d essentially need to put you in a stasis to allow this power to come out fully. Even then, it may not work, and it may choose to simply kill you. Your heart is already weakening. To slow it down in sleep might just stop it.”

“...What of a replica?”

Even started. “What, for you?”

“Yes. Should the physical strain prove to be too much.”

He considered. “So much about them is still unproven,” he said slowly. “I’m not sure yet if they age, if they can conceive children. Moreover, should your…  _ organic _ body give out, the window of time of transfer is  _ incredibly _ narrow. Unlike Roxas and Naminé and Xion, you did not have the metaphysical preparation. I’d only want to use that as a last resort. Even then--I’m not sure I have the adequate resources to create one as advanced as theirs.”

What happened to prideful Even? 

“Your heart has had enough trouble adjusting to your body now. To suddenly thrust it into another… would be traumatic, putting it lightly.”

“...I see. So… what are my limitations, then?”

“What can you do now?”

“I can  _ see _ her memory, if I touch her,” Ienzo said. “Any memory not involving Sora is fairly clear and painless. Though the second he enters the picture--it causes  _ both _ of us pain.”

Even put a hand to his chin. “Her too? But…”

“Could my power be hurting her?”

“I don’t  _ think _ so.” He drummed his fingers against one of the tables in his lab. “Possibly… due to the nature of where Sora is… it’s leaning a little too hard into the matrix, so to speak. He’s not in our existence, but he’s in  _ an _ existence, so… perhaps… the energy it must take to look  _ through  _ that--”

“But when I think of him now I feel no pain.”

“Remembering and tracing memories are two different things,” Even said, with a dismissive handwave. “I thought you’d know that. Why else would it take Naminé so long to put them together?”

“I need to know what Naminé knows,” Ienzo said. “We need her here.”

“Quite,” Even said, with a sigh. “Well. Until then, you should rest. Take things easy. ...Enjoy your life.”

“I may not have it very much longer?”

“...Perhaps not.” 

He laughed a little.

“What does this reaction mean?”

“In the beginning--I could care less about my own life,” he admitted. “Now--I want nothing more than to live.”

Even put his hands on his shoulders. “We will do everything in our power to keep you alive.”

* * *

Ienzo’s heart now felt heavy in a different way. He’d come clean so many times these past few weeks--but this one might just be the hardest. 

“Zo! Hey.” Demyx leaned forward to give him a kiss. Then, “...You look… what’s wrong?”

“Walk with me,” Ienzo said.

It was a cold day, bordering winter. The sun was setting, making everything rosy. They stood in a crystal breezeway of the castle. “What’s going on?” Demyx asked, with a little more insistence, as well as a heavy apprehension.

Ienzo could feel a lump in his throat already. He took both Demyx’s hands. “I’ve made progress with my work,” he said softly. 

“...Okay, and?”

Ienzo could not bear to make eye contact. He tried to explain it as simply as possible, about Naminé, and what he’d been up to with Kairi, including how it was already beginning to eat away at him. “There’s a not-insignificant possibility that… should we go much further… it may very well kill me.”

Demyx said nothing.

“We’re trying everything in our power to figure out a way to do this safely. I’m not sure  _ what _ we’re going to do. Even with Kairi and Naminé’s support… going so deeply might just--”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I do, Demyx. I do.”

“No.” He pulled his hands back. He was shaking. “We’re all guilty, okay? Killing yourself isn’t going to fix that.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Well you could’ve fooled me.”

Ienzo blinked. “I want a future with you.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“I have to help him, Demyx. I owe him that much.”

“Why?” His eyes were watering. 

“It’s because of him that you and I can stand here safely--that some genocidal maniac is not going to try and cause the end of the world. If not for him, Xehanort could’ve taken over your body. We have this second chance at life--with each other--because of Sora. Otherwise… we’d be rotting in that Organization, doing god knows what.” He reached out to touch Demyx’s cheek; he flinched. 

“I only just found you,” Demyx said.

“I know,” Ienzo said. This hurt more than he could’ve ever imagined. “And I will do everything in my power to get through it alive.”

“You could stop.” He sounded like he was tearing up.

“I have to do the right thing. I have to listen to my heart. Are you with me?”

He took a sharp breath. For a moment Ienzo thought Demyx was about to panic. “Ienzo, please--”

“Demyx, I have to.”

He was breathing more shakily now. 

“I’m so sorry, love.” Ienzo pulled him close as he started to cry. He realized he’d never seen Demyx like this; it had always been the other way around. 

It took him a long while to calm down, not that Ienzo could blame him. When Demyx was through, his expression was curiously blank. “What can I do?” he asked in an odd tone of voice.

“What?”

“To keep you alive. What can I do?”

“On a purely literal level--our connection has made me stronger than ever. The most you can do is be here.”

He nodded. “I’ll… I’ll try.”

* * *

Their relationship did shift; it lost the light fun it had had earlier. While they kept their conversations away from the obvious, it was clear from the way they touched and interacted that every moment had to be savored. 

And truthfully, Ienzo found himself wondering if this  _ was _ the right thing to do. But the thought of setting it all aside just made him feel sicker with guilt. He’d live because he had to--simply as that.

The days wore on, through the thick of winter. Even was trying to devise a medication that might protect Ienzo from the worst effects of his power--a sort of black coat for one’s insides--but he had nothing workable or body-safe as of yet. 

Sometimes Ienzo would arrive in their room before Demyx. He did not mean to spy on his beloved’s belongings, but he began to see… books shoved in milk crates. While he waited, he couldn’t help the curiosity; what might Demyx like to read? He’d figured it’d all be cultural, books about music and art, maybe some light fiction. And while he  _ did _ find one or two of those titles… mostly he just found… other things.

First aid texts. Beginner’s white magic. Books about entropy and the body. In and around these books were half-empty ethers.

Ienzo wasn’t sure what to feel. On one hand, knowing Demyx cared so much about him that he’d willingly read scientific books made him melt. On the other… why didn’t he say something, if this was what he was pursuing?

He heard the door open and quickly shoved the book back where he’d found it. “Hey,” Demyx said. Ienzo noticed he was limping a little, as he sometimes did on very strenuous days. “Waiting long?”

“Not quite.”

Demyx sat down next to him gingerly, wincing.

“Why on earth are you suffering with that wound for no reason?” Ienzo asked. 

“Aerith said it healed wrong,” he said. “Only way to fix it is to break it again… and I don’t have time for that right now. I’ll get around to it. Eventually.”

“Isn’t it quite instant the way she does it?”

Demyx shrugged. “I’d still be out of commish for a few days.”

Ienzo cocked his head. “As though you won’t take an excuse for a few days off?” 

“There’s just kind of… a lot going on.” He bit his lip and looked down. 

“I think I can hold off for a few days… if that’s what you’re worried about.” He cocked his head. 

“I don’t want to lose any time with you.”

“I’ve decided I won’t die,” Ienzo said simply. “I simply will not allow it to happen.”

Demyx exhaled. “Promise me?”

“I promise.” He kissed him once. “I’m not through with you yet.” They rested there for a moment, foreheads touching. “I don’t want you to needlessly be in pain, Demyx. Besides… I could use an excuse to cultivate my bedside manner.”

“...Alright.”

Ienzo cupped his face. “I can think of a thing or two to get your mind off of it.”

He smiled a little. “You’re always down for this and I love that.”

He kissed him more deeply, easing Demyx down onto the mattress. “Relax,” he said softly. He worked off Demyx’s shirt and pressed his lips against those scars. He hoped he’d been telling the truth--that he’d survive. It was so hard to gauge the odds. All the more reason to try and make good memories now, lest he be unable to take the strain. Demyx reached up to unbutton Ienzo’s own shirt, running his hands along his back and bringing with it a crop of goosebumps.  _ I’ll miss this, _ he thought, and then,  _ no, I’m not going anywhere. _

So why did things feel so final? Was it fate? His own anxiety? 

Ienzo helped him out of his pants and underwear. “I’ll take care of you.” He took Demyx’s dick into his hand, hearing him gasp and feeling it harden a little further. To do this for someone else only worsened the bittersweetness already fast coming in. Ienzo tried to memorize him, how he felt, the taste and texture of his skin as he moved along it with his hands, his lips. He eased his mouth over the tip of Demyx’s dick, taking it as deeply as he dared.

He could not recall ever feeling so… conscious, as he did this, of the outside world. At least his presence meant he could focus on how Demyx was reacting and adjust accordingly, his hips straining a little against the mattress. His own pleasure seemed curiously distant. Ienzo flicked his tongue along the shaft of it and felt Demyx’s hands tangle in his hair. Hearing him breathe Ienzo’s name--

_ I will not break down. _ There was no reason to be sad. 

“I’m going to--” Demyx stuttered.

Ienzo did not pull away, as he was normally wont to. He wanted to know everything. It was warm against his throat, and the sound he heard Demyx make was completely unlike anything from before.  _ Feeling _ it happen within him was a wholly new form of intimacy, one which made him feel raw. He wiped his mouth with a shaking hand.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Demyx said. 

“I wanted to,” he admitted, again with that same raspiness. “It did seem to elevate things for you.”

He blushed. “I… guess so. Yes.” He reached over to brush a sweaty strand of hair from Ienzo’s face. “Lay down.”

“That was… mostly for you.”

“I know. But you seem like you could use a few minutes without thinking.” He sat up and kissed his forehead. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“I… do want to.” Maybe this would help?

He tried to memorize the way this felt; Demyx’s lips against his chest, his throat, the inside of his thigh. The tenderness of the way he moved. Ienzo felt vaguely on the verge of tears, but relieved to know he had at least the excuse of overstimulation. He felt Demyx take his dick into his hands. “Relax,” he heard. “Just feel.”

Feel.

This was all about feeling, heady and aqueous. He got a little harder and shut his eyes. Demyx took it into his mouth, moving slowly, almost punishingly so. The tide of thought retreated a little. Ienzo felt him taking it a bit more than he had before, and the warmth and heat of him only helped. He gasped, trying not to move his hips. His back arched against the mattress. Demyx kept teasing him, flicking his tongue against the most sensitive parts for  _ just  _ not long enough. In a flash of consciousness, Ienzo knew that Demyx fully understood what he was doing; easier to be frustrated than anxious.

The consideration of such a thing only woke the guilt--and the love. He grasped at Demyx’s hand and felt him squeeze back, no longer so tentative. The need for release made Ienzo shake, and he could barely curl his lips around the words. “I’m so--”

Demyx didn’t pull away; he just worked harder, coaxing Ienzo over the edge, and the lush strangeness of finishing inside of him had him breathing almost shrilly. Demyx pulled away and wiped at his mouth. “...Huh,” was all he said. 

“You didn’t have to,” Ienzo forced out between breaths. 

“Didn’t it feel better?” He lay down next to him and touched his cheek. 

“I--yes.”

“Sue me for wanting to pamper you.” He kissed Ienzo’s shoulder. 

Maybe it was the rawness of the afterglow, but he found himself admitting, “I don’t want to lose you.” Zexion wouldn’t have been caught dead saying such a thing.

He wasn’t Zexion; he hadn’t been for a long time.

His look softened, became hard to read. “Well, you won’t lose  _ me _ ,” Demyx said. “So long as you don’t die on me.”

Ienzo felt his eyes watering. He pretended it was from overstimulation. He drew Demyx close and tried not to cry, but it was a losing battle.

What was his heart telling him? Was he really doing the right thing?

He’d be violating his own nature to use this power. Moreover, possibly violating the nature of the world in general, trying to help retrieve Sora. But what else could he do?

He felt so… helpless.

Demyx shushed him and held him for a long time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo begins to have doubts about his conviction to save Sora, and tries to find its origin.

“...Do you have a moment?”

Aeleus looked up from the puzzle he was working on. “I was looking for a way to fill my time,” he said. He gestured to the seat across from him.

He and Dilan shared common spaces in their apartment. The furniture was comfortable, broken in. Aeleus seemed to be growing some flowers and herbs in a small planter box; Ienzo went over to examine them. “It’s you that’s been working on the gardens,” he said, with realization.

“I like making things grow,” he said simply. He put another piece down onto the table in front of him. “What is it on your mind?”

“I suppose I wanted a more… objective opinion, on something.” Ienzo sat down. “Aeleus, has your heart ever told you with certainty to do something?”

He set aside his puzzle. He, too, looked odd without the frame of his uniform. “Why is it you ask?”

“I  _ thought _ my heart was telling me I needed to save Sora, and do whatever it would take.” He touched his breastbone, which was still a bit too touchable despite all his attempts to eat enough. “But lately, I’ve had… doubts, in that conviction. Namely, that I am violating nature. And is that not what I’ve done before?”

“What we’ve done, you mean.” He sighed. “Tea?”

“...Please.” 

A few minutes later Aeleus handed him a ceramic mug that smelled of jasmine. He sat on the couch across from Ienzo’s chair. “How do you feel when you think about it?” he asked.

“About what?”

“Doing this.”

“I’m afraid as of late my gut hasn’t been very reliable. The anxiety,” he explained, at Aeleus’s baffled expression. “Even with the medication I’ve been given, it’s hard to tell what is purely stress and what is a warning from myself. All it does… is make me feel sick. I…” He looked at his one hand, the veins visible in the early afternoon light. “I had thought at first that it would be worth it, to sacrifice myself for him. But this is bigger than just me. This is… Kairi, too.” He bit his lip. Aeleus’s expression was mostly stoic, aside from a quickly-masked flicker Ienzo thought was concern. 

“You started to see yourself as having worth,” he said softly. “And now you have things to live for, aside from the guilt.”

“Well… yes. I wish to… be with Demyx, more than anything. But it goes and goes in circles, Aeleus.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Kairi feels this way for Sora. The thought of doing purely  _ nothing _ when I can make change is…” Ienzo bit his lip. “It’s abundantly clear that our scientific research is getting nowhere and  _ will _ get nowhere. It’s been almost a year. I--”

Aeleus stirred his tea. “Have you considered,” he began, “that perhaps this is not your responsibility? Sora made this choice knowing the price. He would not want you to risk yourself for him.”

“I… I know. But I… I owe him for… if not for the experiments, for what  _ I _ explicitly asked for, none of this would have happened.”

“Xehanort manipulated you,” Aeleus pointed out. “You were… how old, Ienzo? Six, seven? He asked you to do that and made you think it was your idea.”

Ienzo was shaking. He could feel tears in his eyes. “And what of what I did after?”

“What of what I did? Of Ansem or Even or Demyx? We’ve all done awful things.” He reached over and squeezed Ienzo’s hand. “Ienzo. There are other ways of atoning.”

“But he’s lost,” he said. “Lost, and alone, and--”

“Sora will find his way home if he’s meant to. If that never happens… we must grieve, and move on, and stop trying to force the impossible. All that will do is hurt all involved. Don’t you think?”

The tears ran over. 

“Whatever you decide, Ienzo, I will support you completely. But are you doing this to save Sora, or to save yourself?”

The realization was rattling him, yet it was so obvious. “I… I’m not sure.”

Aeleus handed him a cloth napkin for his face. “Think about it,” he said. “Though I must admit my bias and say… I don’t wish for you to leave this life. And perhaps that is selfish. I have so much to make up to you, Ienzo.”

He sniffled. “Like what?”

“If I had done a better job protecting you--”

“...I’d still be Zexion. That’s not necessarily a good thing. I just don’t want this suffering to be in vain.”

“It won’t be,” Aeleus said. “We’ll make sure of that.”

* * *

Every time Ienzo tried to think about it, it gave him such intense anxiety his heart would palpitate. He turned his focus instead to Demyx, to the bits of life that he wanted. Ienzo was by his side as he finally got his back taken care of, and the few days they spent together as Demyx rested were very nearly happy. Ienzo enjoyed the excuse to nurture him. He hadn’t realized just how much time they spent having some kind of sex until they temporarily couldn’t. All the more reason to encourage what was below that to grow.

(But wouldn’t that be sadistic, should he go through with this?)

_ Don’t think about that, Ienzo. _

“I don’t know how you put up with this,” Ienzo said to Demyx. His bed  _ was _ uncomfortable; even in the few minutes Ienzo had been lying next to him, his bones started to ache. He could feel the springs acutely. 

“Eh, could be worse.” His hair was loose against the pillow, making him look like someone else. “What’s worse than the bed is having all this time to think. Can’t really play music when I’m supposed to be laying down. Which narrows my options.”

“...I don’t like thinking either.”

Demyx scoffed. “Aren’t you a scholar?”

“Yes, but lately my thoughts are so… messy.” 

“Being human is a mess.”

“That is true, isn’t it?” He propped himself up on an elbow. “Messy… unexpected. Wrenching. Yet… I feel as though… I’m being offered choices for the first time in years.”

Demyx squeezed his hand. “I know what you mean.”

“You’re so different.”

“How so?”

“You care about things.”

“It’s… hard not to,” he said. “Doing what I do… I  _ see _ the impacts of darkness. The pain in people’s eyes. I don’t know if I was just ignoring it before… or if I were too oblivious. I’m  _ tired _ of being oblivious. Tired of being alone.”

“Is this what you want to do forever?”

“What, deliver packages?” he barked a laugh. “Hardly.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

Demyx looked up at the ceiling. “To be determined,” he said softly, with a shrug. “I used to live by the seat of my pants. But that just gives me anxiety now. Maybe…” He breathed for a moment. “My music helps me. If I could teach people… that might help  _ them  _ work through all this.”

“Would that make you happy? Helping people?”

“Maybe.” He sighed. “There’s another thing.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve been… trying to pick up some magic,” he admitted with a slight grimace, as though embarrassed. “White magic. I’m actually not that bad at it. What if I were to… use that to fix people?”

“That’s a hard calling.”

“I know. But… weirdly, I feel determined.” He turned his face back to Ienzo. “I think that’s your fault?”

He laughed a little. “What, I’ve instilled in you a work ethic?”

“More like…” He knotted his hands against his stomach. “Actually being attached to someone made me realize… I’ve been so selfish. And selfishness might not be part of… the real Demyx. Whoever that is.” A sigh. “I thought staying under the radar would keep me safe, but I’m not safe from the memories. Or from myself. If I want to actually enjoy life, I’m going to have to get my hands dirty.” He wrinkled his nose. “Instead of hiding or taking things away from people, if I give them… music, or help them heal… maybe I’ll help me heal too.”

“That’s very astute,” Ienzo said softly. He touched Demyx’s cheek, which was scratchy from a few days of stubble. “I often wonder… the same.”

“If helping people will fix you?”

“Yes. I think it may begin that process. But… who, and how?”

“Words,” he said. “You’re a storyteller.”

“I’m a scientist.”

“Your weapon wasn’t a beaker--it was a book,” Demyx pointed out. “What’s a memory if not a story about you?”

Ienzo felt something like a thrill. “That’s rather poetic. I suppose I could… tell the stories. About what we did. About how I feel. Maybe I can help them realize the narrative--the narrative of Xehanort. And help give it more than just a bittersweet ending.” He cocked his head. “How do you know how I feel about words?”

“I’ve read your reports,” Demyx said simply.

His eyebrows shot up.

Demyx pointed to the phone. “You forget I’m connected to the network too? I just… I dunno. Sue me for getting curious. The way you write… it’s much more alive than the way the others do. That, and… come on, Ienzo. You invented a way for people to share pictures--which are stories too.”

He blushed. “That was mostly for reconnaissance,” he admitted. 

“Yet your first post was in and of itself… a story about your future. Stories can make or break a heart.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “The… future. I hope…” He trailed off. “The people we’ve hurt. Their stories are important. What they’ve witnessed. It could help them heal. I could… gather those stories. They deserve so much more of a voice than Xehanort.”

“So do we,” Demyx said.

He wasn’t sure why this felt like a revelation. “Aren’t we also perpetrators?”

“We want to do good. Helping one person won’t make up for the many people that… well, got hurt.” His eyes crinkled. “That’s not how things work. But to  _ not _ do anything… is worse. Don’t forget he hurt us too. You and me could have been normal. You were a kid and I was an amnesiac. Do you think we would’ve chosen this life if we’d known?”

Ienzo blinked. 

“Some things are our fault. But he was the one who pushed that out of us.”

“Demyx, you’re…” he shook his head. “Have you always been this wise?”

He laughed a little. “No.”

“I love you.” Ienzo leaned in and kissed him gently. “I’m so glad we… took this risk.”

“Yeah. Me too.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo's condition begins to deteriorate in earnest.

Stories.

This was all about stories.

Going after Sora was an attempt to change a narrative already written. The world had already decided it, and Sora knew that. He’d made his choice. 

Was there another way to trace the bonds of Kairi’s heart? One involving a different, less lethal form of power? The lexicon let him store text. Could it also store memories? But how would that help Sora come back? If Ienzo were to connect their chains of memory, could Kairi possibly call out to him? Could connecting that to data perhaps allow them to get a real message to him, say on the gummiphone? Ansem had digitized Kingdom Hearts, and Roxas. Perhaps they could digitize Kairi, so to speak.

They had ways of accessing Sora’s memories.

The data Sora. Jiminy’s journals. Roxas and Xion both had parts of his memory. And Naminé was a linchpin. 

Yes. This  _ was _ getting somewhere.

Ansem and Even were both inspired by this. They turned their focus back to the data, but in a different way. As a princess of heart, it would be much different--and more difficult--to do this. Collecting and digitizing the memory was the best place to start. He still had to use his power, though he hoped it was more passive than actually trying to trace the bonds himself.

Ienzo could feel the effects on his body.

He was constantly exhausted, no matter how much sleep he got. He was prone to headaches and dizziness and muscle aches. While he no longer had such trouble hanging onto his weight, he still kept getting those coin-sized bruises.

_ I just need to do this for a little longer, _ he thought, as if to open up a dialogue with his body.  _ Bear with me for just a little longer, and then it will be over forever. _ All he had to do was watch the memory and let it be written.

Even forced him to take frequent breaks. Kairi might only be sixteen, but sixteen years was still a lot of memory.

“I can’t wait until this is over,” Demyx said. He rubbed Ienzo’s shoulders. “God, you’re tense.”

“...I can’t wait either. Be a bit gentler. That hurts.”

Demyx obliged. “It’ll be nice to not be able to feel your bones.”

“Believe it or not, the number on the scale is within proper BMI range.” He sighed. “I just need the memories.”

“Can’t Naminé do it?”

“...It was her Nobody power as well. If someone’s to take the brunt of this, I’d rather it be me.”

Demyx kissed his shoulder, gently pulling the shirt away.

“It helps you’re rather apt at soothing me.”

“Well you deserve to be soothed.” He kept kissing him, pulling him a little closer. “You should see Aerith. She’s a healer. Maybe she can offset this more than Even can.”

“You’re probably right.” Ienzo closed his eyes. The sunlight coming into the room was warm. After a moment, he turned and kissed Demyx on the mouth, wrapping his legs around his waist. For a while they were wrapped up in each other, a gentle give and take. Ienzo parted his lips and let Demyx’s tongue in. He heard his breath catch and felt his heart stutter a little; he hoped it was from the kiss, and not from the alternative.

Demyx broke away and smoothed the hair from Ienzo’s face. He stared at him for a long moment. “You’re so beautiful.”

“What prompted that?”

“Nothing, I just…” He swallowed a little. “Nothing.” He kissed Ienzo again.

Ienzo reached up to work off Demyx’s shirt, pressing his mouth against his shoulder, his chest. So slowly they eased back down onto the mattress. He could feel himself getting hard. He couldn’t quite shake the sense that something was going to happen to them.  _ We’re going to have a future _ , he thought.  _ Even if it kills me. _

Demyx helped him out of his slacks, running his hand along the curve of Ienzo’s ass. He hoped the bruising wasn’t too noticeable in this bright light. He just wanted to relax and be with him, and feel. He wanted to experience everything.

Ienzo wondered. His hands trembled as he tried to undo the button of Demyx’s pants. “I… was wondering,” he began nervously. It had been a while since he’d felt nervous doing anything with him, and the sensation was not unwelcome. 

Demyx laughed a little. “Uh-oh. You’re up to something.” He ran his finger down along Ienzo’s chest, making him harden further.

“Do you think you’d be ready to…” None of these phrases were very pleasant. “Go all the way?”

He flushed, but the way they were pressed Ienzo could feel how he thought about it. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Do you… do you want that?”

“Yeah, I. Um. Am willing to give it a try.” He laughed a little. “So… how do you want to… do this?”

“Well…” He swallowed. “I sort of… wanted…”

Demyx squeezed his hand. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not, but…” Ienzo bit his lip. He was just going to have to say it. “I want you inside of me.” A flush of embarrassment turned his earlier statement into a lie. “Unless… you’d rather it be… the other way?”

“Oh--I--” His hands, at the small of Ienzo’s back, trembled. “I mean, it’s not like this is only going to happen once.”

“...Quite.”

A beat of silence.

“Does that… work for you?”

Demyx laughed a little. “I guess it’s a good thing I fixed my back. Lay down.” 

Shakily, Ienzo got off of him and lay back against the sheets. This meant being vulnerable, which had been easier, but still wasn’t easy. Demyx eased off Ienzo’s underwear, then his own. 

“I’ll get the stuff,” he said. Ienzo saw him rummaging in one of the crates of things. His heart was racing, thick and heavy, a wash of nerves and anticipation making him shake. “If I’d known… I’d have tried to make it a little nicer in here.”

Ienzo snorted. “What? Candles, rose petals? No. You being here is enough. I suspect you’re something of a romantic.”

He returned. He touched Ienzo’s face, then kissed him once. “Well, we’ve missed a lot.”

“I’m rather pleased with how this came out.”

“I am too.” Another flush. “You know how it works, right?”

“Well, yes--of course.”

“I mean, I figured, but I--wanted to make sure.”

Ienzo laughed. “You don’t have to explain sex to me. No. I’m afraid I’ve done more than enough research in my time.”

Demyx laughed too. “God, I love you.” He looped his leg over Ienzo, easing partially onto him. “I’d have figured you’d want to top.”

“Well. We’ll get there someday.”

He gasped a little. Ienzo reached down to take his dick into his hand, stroking it gently. “Um, I--not too much.” He took a quick breath. Seeing him fall apart was only turning Ienzo on more. “So I guess I should probably finger you first? Just so--” He cut himself off. His hands were shaking. “I’ve wanted to touch you there for so long.” He spread some lube onto his fingers. “Let me know if it hurts. And just kind of…”

Ienzo shifted forward a little. He tried to relax, but the tension of doing something new made it a bit difficult. He felt the coolness of the lube against his inner thigh and shivered before Demyx found it.

It didn’t hurt, but it did feel odd. Ienzo wrapped his arms loosely around him. Odd and a lot of pressure. He took a quick breath. “What if I did this?” Demyx asked, and eased in another finger.

He flinched at the prickle of pain, trying to breathe through it before it faded. He’d known this wasn’t going to be easy, or necessarily  _ good _ the first time.

“I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s alright,” he said through his teeth. Thankfully the pain faded quickly, replaced with more pressure. “Maybe… one more? Your hands are large but I’m not sure--”

“How it compares?” he laughed a little. “Alright.”

Another flicker of pain. Ienzo held fast to Demyx’s shoulder. He was breathing hard. This certainly was much more  _ awkward _ than he’d read about it being. 

“And now?”

“I think I may be ready.”

“Alright. Um.” The nerves had returned. He lubed his dick delicately. “Maybe just kind of… put your legs like…” He slid a hand under Ienzo’s back, supporting him, and then tried to guide himself with the other.

“Not so effortless like you thought?”

He snorted. “Hardly. Okay. I’ll… try to go slow.”

Ienzo could feel the tip of it against him, those too-sensitive nerves, and the anticipation returned. Demyx pressed into him gently. Hearing the small noise he made caused the hairs on Ienzo’s arms to stand on end. “That’s you?” he asked in an odd voice.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He was breathing hard, his eyes shut. “Fuck, I--” He eased into Ienzo a little more. It remained painless still, but he was gathering more pleasure from Demyx’s reactions than from the dick inside him.

Inside. How bizarre.

Demyx waited for a moment, letting him get used to it and, Ienzo suspected, reeling as well. Ienzo leaned up to kiss him and felt his own dick against his stomach.

At least there was that.

“Can I try to move?” he asked, gasping a little. “Or--”

“You can try.”

It became clear this wasn’t the ideal position to do this, but at least they could kiss each other. The movement inside of him was pleasant, but not exactly earth shattering, and he found himself more focused on the friction of his dick against Demyx’s waist. It was fascinating, in its own way, how this felt. Perhaps not as overwhelming as he’d been led to believe. Intercrural had made him fall apart far more dramatically.

Demyx lost his balance briefly, and Ienzo felt quite suddenly a sharp, startling pleasure unlike anything he’d felt before. 

He must’ve made some sort of noise. “Is that it?” Demyx asked. “There?”

“Perhaps…” He sounded gaspy. “Maybe if you try a little more… like… up? If that makes sense?”

Demyx shifted his weight a little. It took a few tries where he  _ almost _ got it, until finally he did. “God, you’re so--Ienzo, I--” 

This was warmer, rawer than anything else. Ienzo felt almost as though he couldn’t control himself. He kissed him hard and tried to move his hips in rhythm. He should’ve been embarrassed by the noise he was making, but wasn’t. Hearing Demyx gasp his name wasn’t helping. For a moment, or several, they were all that existed to Ienzo. Nothing else mattered.

The tension in him was rising. He wanted to stay like this forever, but at the same time, he knew that it was all going to feel so different when they  _ did _ finish. He could feel himself getting closer, faster, this being so much more potent. They moved against each other with a little less hesitation, and while these deeper thrusts were painful for a few seconds, gradually the pain was replaced with a pleasure that he didn’t think was possible to feel. 

“I… I’m sorry, I’m--” Demyx could barely form the words. “I’m trying not to, but I--”

Ienzo understood. If he were in that position he didn’t think he would have the willpower to hold back for this long. Instead he kissed him and pulled him closer before he  _ felt _ it happen, felt the subtle twitch and warmth inside him. Demyx moaned against his shoulder. For a moment Demyx struggled to gather himself before he eased out of him, then took Ienzo’s dick into his hand, pressing his lips against his cheek, his jaw, his throat.

It seemed that as soon as Demyx started touching him he was at the mercy of his own body, unable to do anything more than cling to Demyx. He was shaking all over. For once, it wasn’t hard to be lost, to be vulnerable, if it meant feeling like this.

After too long and not long enough he felt himself giving in, the shock of it breaking over him like a wave, a rush he could feel in his whole body, weak or not, a tingling he could feel all down his spine.

But once it was through every part of him seemed hypersensitive, almost painfully so. Demyx brushed the sweaty hair out of Ienzo’s face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes--I--” He sounded so breathy. “Just--”

“A minute?”

He hummed. He could feel he was shaking.

Demyx held him for a while. After a while the quaking stopped and he was able to relax more naturally. Ienzo realized he was exhausted and a little dizzy. “Would you mind terribly if I fell asleep?”

“We can stay as long as you want.” Demyx kissed his forehead. 

“I think I just need to… center myself somehow.”

“Get some rest,” he said gently.

He did, sleeping surprisingly hard without aid of the medication, and woke up an unknown amount of time later. Demyx had draped a blanket over him and gotten dressed. Ienzo sat up slowly, feeling more acutely the dried sweat, the remnants of lube between his legs. He  _ did _ feel a bit more stable, but yet also incredibly vulnerable. 

Demyx set his phone aside. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” he said. He reached for his shirt on the floor and buttoned it. “I feel very--”

“Exposed?” Demyx provided. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I wonder if it’s normal.”

“Maybe. If you love the person you sleep with.”

Ienzo leaned forward to kiss him. He continued getting dressed, noticing a soreness in his hips when he moved. It wasn’t awful, but it was indeed very noticeable. He figured he’d take a warm bath. Catch his breath. He was feeling dizzy again and tried to shake it off. “Is my hair very awful?”

Demyx reached over to fix it. “I promise I washed my hands,” he said, smoothing the strands around Ienzo’s face. “It’s still a little messy.”

For a moment Ienzo rested against him, breathing in his smell, which had been permutated by sweat and sex. His heart beat once, heavily. He tried to take a deep breath.

Except he couldn’t.

Ienzo didn’t move. This was new. His heart was still beating weirdly. He tried to get himself to breathe, but he  _ couldn’t _ . It wasn’t like a panic attack where the air simply didn’t satisfy. It was as though the reflex had withered away.

“Ienzo?” Demyx prompted. “Ienzo, what’s up?”

The dizziness was worsening. His vision started to swarm with stars. How to impart what was happening to him if he didn’t have air to make words? He tried to reach for his phone, or Demyx’s, but his hand was trembling.

Demyx’s eyes were wide. “Are you--”

He reached up to hit himself, to physically shake the urge, but by then things were getting more and more unsteady. 

Demyx shook him. “Breathe. It’s okay.”

_ I can’t _ . He probed at his chest. The diaphragm felt sore to the touch. Even had said the muscles were weakening. Why this? Why now? Things were getting darker. How long had it been since his last breath? A minute? Two? Not helped at all by his racing heart.

Things became hazy. He felt himself getting picked up. Thought he heard Even’s voice.

“What happened?”

“He just stopped breathing.” He heard Demyx’s panic. “He was sleeping, and then when he woke up--”

Being set down. Pressure on his chest, something being shoved into his mouth which tasted like plastic, air finally being forced into his lungs. But yet all he could focus on was how  _ unnatural _ it felt, off of his natural rhythm. “What were you doing?” Even asked.

“...What?”

“Before he fell asleep. What were you doing?”

“I mean I--” A sigh. “We were, um. Having sex?”

“...I see.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well. Thank you for setting your own embarrassment aside for Ienzo’s sake.” A cold hand against the side of his throat. “This is clearly advancing.”

“Well--we’ve been together for months--”

“Not that, you dunce. His condition. It’s deteriorating.”

“Maybe Aerith can help? I was trying to get him to see her.”

“...You may be right.” Ienzo could barely move. 

“She fixed me. She might be able to fix him. I… I really don’t want him to--” He paused. “But I’ve been seeing him get sicker and sicker--I didn't think this would happen if we--"

“We all have. Once Ienzo makes up his mind… I’m afraid there’s no changing it. Try telling him no. I dare you.” The same hand was on his forehead. “Child…”

“Is this really because of his power?”

“Yes. The entropy of a Nobody’s nonexistence in a human body… breaks down the cells, the muscles. I’d hoped the palliative care would help. But clearly…” A long pause. “Do you truly care about him?”

“More than anything. More than--” Another hand took his. 

“Then convince him to let this go.”

“...I’ll try.”

Darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ienzo has to decide how to move forward.

When Ienzo woke up he could breathe.

The intubation had been removed, but his throat ached. He was in the med bay again. It hurt to move.

He sat up slowly. Demyx was fast asleep in a chair nearby, his body awkwardly folded onto it, a blue blanket spread over him.

“Ienzo?” 

He looked over and saw Aerith. She approached him and took his pulse. “I’m sorry about this,” he said hoarsely.

“How do you feel?”

“Alright--I suppose.”

At the noise, Demyx stirred. “Hey, you’re awake.”

Aerith sat at the foot of the bed. “The good news is that I was able to heal the damage to your heart and lungs. But… on the other hand, Ienzo, all of that healing is going to unravel the moment you use that power again. You’ll go back to being unable to breathe without support. And likely other organs of yours will begin to fail.”

“...I see.” He still felt a bit breathless. “Thank you for your help.” He was oddly numb.

“It’s lucky Demyx was with you,” she said. “Otherwise…”

“It would have been fatal,” he said in that numb voice. “Quite.”

Demyx seemed numb too; his face was blank, his eyes haunted. 

She smiled sadly. “As long as you don’t use that power, you should begin to bounce back and recover. You’re young, and healthy, otherwise.”

“I see.”

She squeezed both his hands. “I’ll call and check up on you in a few hours,” she said. “Get some rest.”

She left. For a moment it was silent. “How’s your… breathing?” Demyx asked in an odd voice.

“Back to normal, more or less,” Ienzo replied, equally as stunted. “I must apologize for that. Not very flattering.”

“Not very--” Something broke the numbness. “You almost died, Ienzo. You almost suffocated. Do you know what that felt like to see?”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Truly, I am.”

“So much for this not killing you,” he said sourly.

“I’m going to stop,” Ienzo said, more to the blanket tucked around his legs than anything. “I promise. I’m going to stop.”

“I want to believe you,” Demyx said.

Ienzo looked at him. He could feel tears in his eyes. “It is very clear that this is doing nothing other than being dramatic and destructive. I’m not helping anyone. The power’s not strong enough to do any good--it only will kill me. I used to be fine with that. I used to _want_ that. But now…”

Demyx took a few steps towards him and drew Ienzo into his arms. “There are other ways you can help,” Demyx said. 

“I certainly hope so.”

The door opened and in came Even. His face was washed out, and his eyes were bloodshot, but his expression was resigned. “Might I have a word with Ienzo? Alone?” he asked Demyx.

“...Sure.” He squeezed Ienzo’s hand one last time and then left. Ienzo looked at his empty hand, wanting nothing more than for him to be back, knowing that Even was very likely about to tell him off.

Even perched on the edge of the bed. He’d shed his lab coat, and the turtleneck underneath was a little shabby. “How are you, child?” he asked in a soft voice, the same that had comforted him as he cried.

“Dazed. Disoriented. Humiliated,” Ienzo said softly. “I…”

“I could not help but overhear your conversation. You truly desired death?”

“You accused me as such.”

“Yet--to hear it aloud is all the more jarring.” He touched his temple. “I’m afraid emotions make me… feel quite stupid.”

Ienzo dropped his eyes. “Every day the guilt was eating me alive. It still is. I felt like a wretch. Like--of all the people to have died, why did I survive? Without the distraction of my work, I, as a person… was not worthy of the life given to me.” He exhaled. “Clearly all I was capable of in the past was mayhem and terror. I figured if I could die doing something worthwhile, then…” He trailed off. “I didn’t even fully know myself that was my goal for a while. But if it’s any consolation--I’m giving up.”

Even’s eyes were glassy. “Are you?”

“Yes. You needn’t manipulate Demyx into coercing me.”

Even winced. “I still don’t understand this match, at all,” he said softly. “But clearly he is giving you something no one else can. Something that you need. I would be a fool to ignore that.”

“He’s changing. He’s growing. I hope I am too.” Ienzo felt his eyes watering, again. The implications of it all were starting to break over him. He’d very nearly died. He knew it was a human response to be shocked and afraid about it; he was hardly going to react to a near-death experience with Zexion’s cold indifference.

“You are,” Even said softly. “I must insist after all this that you take some time to yourself. No work… nothing strenuous. I’m sure you’re feeling quite a lot.”

“You’re not mad?” Ienzo asked.

“Moreso… terrified of losing you. But now I know how you feel. And we can talk about that. You have so much to offer, Ienzo. Just because you cannot do this one thing doesn’t mean you are lacking worth.”

The tears ran over. “What am I to do?”

Even wiped away the tear. “Go back to this new project of humanity,” he said. 

“I have to atone somehow.”

“And you will,” Even said firmly. “Of that I have no doubt. But if it helps… Ienzo, you were a victim of all this too. One of the best ways of atoning is healing.”

“What of you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you healing?”

Even looked startled. “A loaded question. I’m afraid… I have quite a lot more sins I’ve committed. But I will do everything in my power not to waste this life. I’ve spent enough time faffing about. Getting rid of Xehanort is one thing… cleaning up the fallout, another. But it is work that must be done. Work that I… want to do.”

“And things with Ansem and the others?”

“Will mend if they are meant to,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “It is difficult.”

Ienzo sighed.

Even patted his hand. “Get some sleep,” he said. “This will all work out for the best. We have to trust in the ways of fate--it’s gotten us here so far.”

“What of the science?”

Even laughed. “Well. We all know what our science has done, yes?”

Ienzo reached forward to embrace him. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t feel awkward to do so, but he was just feeling so exposed, and in an odd way heartbroken. He needed to be soothed.

Even rubbed his back in circles. “We’re going to figure this out.”

* * *

For several days Ienzo just felt tired. Tired, weak, and sad, too. As he tried to sleep the memories poked him behind the eyes like hot needles--all the things he’d done, all the things that had been done to him. He woke up sobbing more than once and had to be comforted. In a way, he felt like a child, his emotions washing through him thickly without the barrier of his work.

But a child’s heart could grow, and bit by bit, he did.

He spent time with Demyx. Running packages, going out to lunch. Walking. Talking, a lot. Ienzo wasn’t sure if it was the near-death experience, or the difficulty of letting go of his research, or perhaps because of how vulnerable they’d been with one another, but the words were spilling from him without his permission. He found himself telling Demyx about his past, his biological parents, the experimentation. About how it felt to die and then, what seemed a second later, wake in a whole new self. How, on one hand, he had twelve years of Zexion's memories, but on the other he'd essentially gone from eight to twenty in a single breath. In all this, Demyx just listened patiently, holding his hand tightly.

He went to the restoration committee, offering himself for whatever might need to be done. Ienzo found himself looking through engineering plans, doing heavy admin work and helping proof Cid’s codes. The man was, in his own way, also trying to help Sora, building a model of him to function in simulations. Helping in this tertiary capacity soothed Ienzo’s conscience.

Once he was physically stronger, he and Demyx spent a lot of time in bed, getting to know one another’s bodies. In this all, something real seemed to be emerging. They talked about the future; where they might go and how they might get there.

“You’re going to do great things and I’m going to help you get there,” Demyx said. “Relax, Zo. We’ve got time.” Sometimes Ienzo would sit with him as he composed music, his fingers deftly weaving stories from sound.

Ienzo tried to write his own story.

The first few attempts actually just made him rawer and more emotional still. He snapped easily and cried at stupid things. But letting go of these emotions only served to ease the weight of dread in his breast.

Everything was, so slowly, looking up.

He should’ve known it wouldn’t last long.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kairi goes to a deeper place of sleep. Ienzo pays a price.

He’d only come into the lab to drop off some notes Ansem had asked for. As soon as he was in the office he noticed the tension, thick, making his heart rate spike. Both Ansem and Even were standing over Kairi.

“What’s going on?” Ienzo asked.

“She won’t wake,” Even said. “I stopped the sedative hours ago--yet--and all her vitals look normal. I don’t understand--”

“Perhaps she is naturally asleep?” Ienzo asked, though he didn’t believe it as he said it.

Ansem shook his head. He offered Ienzo the tablet they’d been using to monitor her vitals. “Look at her neural activity.”

“She’s dreaming,” Ienzo said softly.

“She’s gone to a farther place of sleep,” Even said. “Perhaps… seeking something, or…” 

Ienzo could feel his pulse in his throat. “What of the data?”

“Inconclusive nonsense,” Ansem said, flicking through a few tabs. “The numbers. It’s as though--”

“Perhaps she is slipping too,” Ienzo said, with horror. “If she connected with Sora… but is that possible?”

“I’m not sure. It’s unnatural for her to be alive anyway, and the price was Sora’s disappearance. If she were to try and connect with him, that could be--undoing everything, and the fates could be taking her.”

The notes dropped out of his hands. Ienzo could feel the panic in his breast, thick, sticky, and hot. “This is my fault.”

They both looked at him.

“I encouraged this. Joining our power together--getting her to call out for him--this is on me. She trusted me.” He was breathing hard. “The nature of that power--the nature of Sora’s price--oh no. No.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Even said, but he sounded shaken. “That’s impossible. You were merely looking at her memories and tracing them. That wouldn’t make her disappear.”

Ienzo’s hand snapped up to his head. “I was trying to--I never should have--this is all my fault.  _ No. _ ” He tried to think.

There was one thing he could do to stop her from slipping away.

“We don’t know anything to be certain,” Ansem said magnanimously. “This sleep could very well be willful on her part. She’s a princess of heart--the rules are different for her.”

“Your power wouldn’t poison like darkness,” Even agreed. “But yet… this isn’t meaningless.”

“We need more data to draw any conclusions.”

“So we just wait?” Ienzo asked. 

“What other alternatives do we have?” Even asked tiredly. “For all we know… given their connection… she’s onto something.”

“We have to trust in that,” Ansem said. “Ienzo. Peace. Your experiment was not successful, but it wasn’t harmful.” He came over to him and eased him down onto a chair. “It’s alright. We’ll figure this out.”

As Even and Ansem fretted over the data… Ienzo waited.

Regardless of what they said, this was his fault. With him gone, Kairi must have continued to trace that connection on her own, going to a deeper place, her heart calling to a world that might not exist, that should not exist. There was a not insignificant chance this would make her disappear as well. As Ansem said--since they were essentially trying to reverse fate’s decision,  _ some _ one was going to have to go in Sora’s stead.

Oh.

So that’s how it was to end. But it was all his own doing, of course.

Ienzo waited. 

He pretended to leave with Ansem and Even, so as to not arouse suspicion. He ducked back through the library and down again towards the lab.

Ienzo looked down at his phone. He entered the number and dialed.

"Zo? What's up? I can't really talk--I'm still working."

He felt a lump tighten in his throat. "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"My sexy drawl?" He laughed. "Really, though. Is something going on? You sound upset."

"Just congested," he lied. "The air is very dry in here. I… have to help Ansem with some data entry. I won't be able to see you tonight."

"...Oh." He sounded disappointed. "Okay. Well. Don't work too hard."

"I'll try." He bit his lip. He knew saying this would raise alarm bells, but he couldn't stop himself. "I love you."

"Hey, I love you too. You in a sappy mood?"

"You could say that. I'll… I'll let you go."

"See you soon," Demyx said, and hung up.

Ienzo approached Kairi slowly. He tried to calm himself. Center himself. It was an uphill battle. He pulled up a chair, wiped the back of his hand with a prep pad wearily. His hands were shaking and it took a few tries to find a vein for the IV catheter. He was aware these were likely his last moments of consciousness, and equally tried to push the thoughts away. 

He took her hand. As he started the sedative, he began to so slowly reach out to her, everything getting hazier until finally it was all foggy. 

There was so much fog.

Ienzo blinked. Then blinked again.

He'd never put himself to sleep--not as such. He was aware this was a lucid sort of dream, perhaps part illusion. He looked through the bluish fog for any source of light. "Where are you?" He muttered. It was hard to wade through all this. Was she too far to reach? He pulled for the lexicon, feeling its weight. He opened the cover and sought her memories.

The pages were blank. All of them.

Ienzo began to riffle through them with panic. Much as Xion disappearing caused memories to be purged--Kairi must be disappearing as well. "Kairi!" He called. "Kairi, you have to come back. You're going to disappear!"

Silence. Ienzo ran blindly through the fog, seeking that familiar light. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so--I was wrong. You have to come back. Kairi."

He didn't recall ever feeling so helpless before. So lacking composure.

In the mist, he thought he saw something, a little girl. "Kairi?"  He followed her. She kept running, kept giggling, like this was a game. "No--just stay still," he said. "Please."

The mist started to fade so slowly, revealing, of all things, a small library in the castle. Ienzo looked down at the girl.

Red hair. Unmistakable violet-blue eyes. She must've been four, perhaps younger. She clapped her hands. "Kairi?" A deep memory of hers, then. 

She slid her tiny hand into Ienzo's and led him over to a small table. There were photos spread all over it. She picked one up and handed it to Ienzo.

Sora, equally as young. A night sky full of meteors. "You started at the beginning," he said. "When your hearts first connected." 

She nodded eagerly. 

"Kairi, if you keep following him you're going to disappear. Your memories are already unravelling. It's my fault. Let me help you. I should never have--"

She looked at the table and whimpered.

"I know. I know. It probably feels like you're closer than ever. But you won't be reunited if this continues. You'll just vanish. And he wouldn't want that. We're violating the narrative. He'll come if he's meant to, but not like this. Not using this power."

Tears filled her eyes. 

"I'm so sorry. I really thought--"

She touched his hand. When Ienzo looked up she was sixteen again. "I know where he is."

"Kairi--"

She shook her head. "I can feel him. Ienzo, I don't know how, but I don't think I'm actually disappearing. I think my heart is going to meet his. Maybe I can bring him back using this connection--all the ones that have been opened, data or other. You've given us options."

He was, again, dizzy. "You're sure?"

"Yes. Can't you feel it?"

All Ienzo could feel was vertigo.

"Trust me. I need you to go tell Riku. It's going to take both of us."

"But what about--"

She was already gone. Ienzo heard another set of footsteps. He looked from the fading photos up to the source.

His own face stared back at him; young, eight or so, in the overlarge lab coat they'd sewn for him. The kid watched him warily. "Are you my heart as well?" Ienzo asked him. "Or a memory?"

The kid reached up for his hand. Ienzo took it. It sent a pang of pain through his chest.

They waded through the fog, through his memory. Through the pain of the apprentices' lies and Ansem's disappearance, through the experiments, the memories shattering like crystal. Through the fire and smoke of his parents' house. Through his own atrocities, the worlds that fell, the hearts that were harvested. "Why are you showing me this?" Ienzo asked the boy. He said nothing.

They stood at the center of a web of memory, one slowly withering. "Is this the power?"

The boy nodded.

"So I guess this is the end of the line."

Another nod. Faint pages flickered and burned. Ienzo picked up the lexicon. It, too, was vanishing. He took a deep breath and heard the boy do the same. He pitched it into the center of the web. The fine filaments unraveled more quickly, the power withering and dying inside of him. Sacrificing it was all he had left. To turn fully away from this very, very long chapter of his life, and accept the consequences. Namely... that this was not all his fault. 

The veins shattered. In their place, other lines, weak but growing. Ansem's embrace during their reunion. Even holding him as he cried. Aeleus, gentle, stalwart, Dilan’s attempts to rebuild.

Demyx, holding him, their first kiss. The realization that they were falling in love. The way the bond made him stronger, more  _ him _ than ever before. The way it let him be vulnerable, and the strength in that vulnerability. That it made him capable of love.

Ienzo opened his eyes.

The pain, the dizziness, worsened. It felt like there was a massive weight on his chest. He wasn’t on the chair, he was on the floor, and he was being cradled. “Ienzo? Ienzo, can you hear me?” In the bright light of the lab, Demyx’s face was in silhouette.

“Hey.” He was gasping, a hoarse, animal sound. “How did you--”

“Help’s coming. Someone’s coming. You just have to hang on for a little while.” His own voice was ragged.

“How did you know?”

“When you said you loved me. You never say that over the phone. I knew you were going to do something stupid.” He touched Ienzo’s face. 

“Is she--where is she--”

Demyx looked over his shoulder. “I don’t know. I figured she ran to get someone.”

“Oh…” The laughter hurt his chest. “She really did it.”

“Did what?”

“Found his heart.” The words were taking all his strength. It was getting harder to breathe. “She told me she had… I thought she was… disappearing. Not to him. From reality.”

Demyx touched his mouth. “Save your breath.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. I thought I was doing this to her.”

“It’s okay, Ienzo.”

A weird giddiness overtook him. In a flash of consciousness he realized it was likely hypoxia. He was starting to have to think about these breaths, forcing it consciously. He reached up to Demyx’s face. His hand was trembling and weak. “I’m really not very smart, am I?” He had to gasp between words.

“You were trying to save her.”

He was starting to grow tired…

“Tell me a story.”

He blinked. “What? I thought I… shouldn’t talk?”

“You have to stay awake. A story, a memory. Something.”

“I…” His other hand, at his side, twitched. He forced himself to breathe. “When I was… small." Ienzo coughed a little. “Ansem used to… to take me… out to the gardens. It was like… another world. They never used to let me explore. They didn’t want me to get hurt. He would… break Even’s rules… and just let me wander there for hours and hours.”

“I guess Even was the strict dad?”

“Very… neurotic.” He could feel his eyes rolling. Demyx shook him gently. “Always… “don’t do this, don’t do that.” But he did it… because of how my parents died… because of the accident that started the fire… wanted to stop that.” His arm started to tremble from the exertion of holding it up. Demyx laid his palm over his to keep it there. “But it was because of Ansem that I knew I could be… more.” For a moment he just had to focus on breathing. It was getting harder. “There was so much… more out there.”

“There still is.” His expression slipped. Ienzo realized it was taking as much strength for Demyx to appear calm as it was for him to breathe. 

“I wanted to help people.”

“You are. You will.”

Another wave of giddiness. He was starting to go numb. “I’m dying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even and Aerith are going to come fix you. I already called them. It’s okay.”

“I used to think that I wanted this. But it feels so… I’m scared.” He could feel it, the numbness encroaching. “Will you tell them?”

“Who?”

“The others. That I love them. And I’m sorry. I ran out of time. I never got to fix things. I--”

“You’re not going to die.” The desperation crept into his voice. He looked at his phone. “Please, oh please--”

“I love you.”

“Ienzo--”

“Sing to me?”

His eyes clouded with tears. Ienzo tried to keep breathing, but his body was no longer responding to him. Demyx kissed his forehead and remained there, his cheek against Ienzo’s face. In a shaky and halting voice he sang, a lullaby that sounded like water.

It was so hard to stay awake. Things were getting so hazy, so quickly, all of it dissolving, until at last all there was was his shaky voice.

And then there was nothing.


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of Ienzo's life closes, and it's time to move on.

Ienzo blinked. Once, then again. There seemed to be something wrong with his eyes. 

He could breathe. There was that.

Too slowly the world slid into focus. He twitched his fingers, to see if he could. Something was… off, felt substantially different about his being.

“Child?”

He tried to turn his head towards the voice.

“Easy. Easy. There. It’s alright.”

Ienzo put a hand to his face. His hair was dirty, and it itched. He tried to speak. “Ans--” The sound was weak, halting. He attempted to prop himself up. 

“Careful. You’re very weak.”

Ienzo swatted the hair out of his eyes. He could see Ansem at his bedside, exhausted and haggard. There was the distinct pinch of an IV in his hand. “I--”

“You’re alive.”

“Where’s--”

“Asleep. It’s the middle of the night. The child has held almost a nonstop vigil. I told him to get some rest."

He felt wetness in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Ienzo.” He took Ienzo’s free hand. 

“Aren’t you angry?”

“I’m much more relieved you’re alive. It’s been an uphill battle for quite some time. By the time we got to you your body and will were pulling apart. We weren’t convinced it would return.” He was so pale, so washed out. “You  _ did _ die, for some minutes. It’s lucky that your heart let itself be restarted.”

“Why? Why am I still--” He wasn’t asking Ansem this question, but rather the world. 

“You must be meant to be here.”

“She… she disappeared?”

“...Yes. We believe she’s found Sora. There’s still data coming from her, so she hasn’t vanished from existence. Whatever you two did, insane as it was… did bring results.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You always did take enormous risks.”

For a moment he turned his focus back to his body. The way breath was normal again. Something had shifted. He realized, almost with a start, that the magic was no longer sapping his vitality.

Mostly because it was gone. Sealed away. Buried. “I will take no more,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve tortured you all.”

Ansem smiled a little. “We’ve raised you to be this way,” he said. “How can I be mad at that? We raised you to disregard your body, your  _ self _ , your wants and needs, for the sake of the greater good. Compounded with the psychological devastation of your transition to humanity… of course this was the only logical outcome. I only wish I’d realized it sooner.”

The door opened. Even, in a dressing gown, his hair mussed. “The monitors--” He began, before his eyes fell onto Ienzo. “Child. What a stupid, stupid thing to do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Even came over and drew him into an embrace. Ienzo couldn’t help but give into the comfort of it. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird. Weak.”

‘Thankfully you are rebounding well. I’ve been giving you ether on top of the medication. It seems to be helping. Your color is no longer so sallow.”

“I think…” He swallowed, placing a hand on his breastbone. “I think it’s partially because… for so long I was forcing my will to the forefront of my being, where it didn’t belong. But as Zexion… that’s how I grew up. With my heart where it’s meant to be… I feel more…  _ me _ than I have in years.” He thought of his childhood self’s face. That must've been the purpose of getting rid of the lexicon--letting his being settle. Destroying the thing that was killing him. “It is jarring.”

“Fascinating,” Ansem said. “Given your unusual upbringing… your will had to overcompensate.”

“I’d embraced humanity, but I hadn’t  _ embraced _ humanity, if that makes sense.”

“You had work to do,” Even said, with a sigh. “And now…”

“Now I can just be Ienzo.”

“Well, good,” Even said, with a sniff. “Because you deserve nothing more than a long and fulfilling life--even if it kills me to give you that.”

Ienzo smiled.

As soon as Demyx heard he was awake, he ran downstairs. He was still in pajamas; he hadn’t even put on  _ shoes _ . He vaulted over to Ienzo and pulled him into an embrace so tight Even told him to be gentle, before giving them space. Demyx just said his name over and over again. “You’re here. You’re here.”

“I’m here.” He was crying freely, but not, he thought, out of sadness. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had to--I thought I  _ killed _ her, Demyx.”

“You didn’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t believe you saw me-- that you watched me--” He swallowed, feeling a wave of guilt. “How can I ever make it up to you?”

Demyx cupped his face. “Stay with me.”

“I promise.”

* * *

Ienzo tried to pull the shards of himself together. He was so embarrassingly tenderhearted now. Empathy stabbed him like tiny knives. When he was physically stronger, he worked alongside the restoration committee, with Ansem, to analyze the data coming from Kairi. They thought they might be figuring out a way for Riku to--safely--get to them.

He gave himself time. He spent hours with Even and Ansem, Aeleus and Dilan, wading through the muck of the past--tensions and betrayals and lies and atrocities. Sometimes Ienzo yelled at them. Sometimes he cried. Sometimes  _ he _ was being the one yelled at, or cried over. But there was also a sense of things being worked through, of the bonds beginning to mend and heal. Again, they started to feel like the family they’d once been, even though it still felt rather noticeable that Braig was not a part of it. But he’d made his choice.

To a degree, there was a new member of that family, too.

It took a long while for the others to realize that Demyx was no mere fling of Ienzo’s. Longer still for some of them--well, Even and Dilan, mostly--to accept that, then to begin to get to know him as he was, and not as he used to be. Even insisted for days--weeks--that Demyx was not good enough for him. It did make things uncomfortably tense for a time. But, perhaps seeing how they interacted, he… began to change his mind. 

Ienzo began to gather stories of a different kind.

Much like the photo app he’d developed, he worked with Ansem on an application. He wanted to give people a space to share their stories, their memories, how they were affected by darkness. Where they could be anonymous, if they so chose. It was only a beginning at catharsis for the people he’d hurt, but he had to start somewhere. In his downtime, he began to again study psychology, but with the pretense of using it to help others heal their minds and hearts.

There were still questions which may never be answered.

As the weeks and months passed, nobody heard anything from Sora, or Riku, for that matter. Everyone tried to be optimistic. But if they were out there… nobody knew.

Demyx was still missing memories.

Ienzo knew he was hurting, whether or not he realized it. Sometimes he would catch Demyx staring into space, and his fingers would stop wandering over the frets of his sitar. He would go completely still until Ienzo called his name. Moreover, when they shared a bed at night, quite often Demyx would accidentally wake him whimpering or thrashing from some nightmare or another. But every single time, he insisted that he couldn’t remember what had happened. So together they went through Even’s notes. Ienzo tried to understand the neuroscience behind memory. It became clear that the problem wasn’t his mind at all, but rather his heart. The time travel had wiped it all clean. So Ienzo had to help him learn to grieve that.

“You know,” Demyx said, with a note of finality, “I’m… almost ready to not go digging in the past.”

“You don’t want to know who you are?” Ienzo asked.

He sighed. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said slowly. “It’s like… all that time trying to find out who I  _ was _ … could better be spent being who I  _ am _ . I… don’t want to go chasing ghosts, and I don’t want to spend one more fucking second thinking about anything that has anything to do with Xehanort. I think we’d be better off.”

Ienzo nodded once. “That’s very well said.”

“Besides… I have more now than I ever did. I know that.” He touched Ienzo’s face. “I have you, I have music. I have  _ time _ . There’s one other thing, though.”

“Which is?”

“I quit my job.”

Ienzo’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought you liked it. I thought you were saving money.”

“Oh, I did,” he said, with a shrug. “I was just offered something better.”

“Like?”

“The committee wants me. As more than just a volunteer. People in town know me from the packages, and let’s face it, I have a pretty sweet connection to you guys. I don’t know  _ what _ I’ll be doing for them, but… it’s a start.”

Ienzo smiled. “That it is.”

* * *

It was clear that the future would be something that constantly evolved. There was no easy happy ending. Being a better person took constant work and constant sacrifice. It meant working through things that had long been suppressed. But in it all… he felt as though he may be redeemed.

Ienzo wrote his story. He wove it slowly, in stolen hours, editing, cross referencing old reports and experiments he’d done. He took accountability and he accepted that some things were not his fault.

When it was finished, he took it to Ansem. The man was working to help jumpstart the new government, to rebuild, in his own way, though he was doing away with the monarchy and the nobility. (“Silly, useless, baseless titles,” he said. Ienzo was relieved; the last thing he deserved was for Ansem to suddenly name him heir.) A person would rule if they had merit; nothing more. “I admit I’m still startled to see your hair,” he said. He set aside his pen.

Ienzo touched it. He’d shortened the bangs, knowing full well they’d grow back in crazily within a few months. Having the light and air on that part of his face still was odd, but the change felt natural. He was no longer a stubborn child, an obstinate teenager. His appearance should reflect that. “You should’ve seen Demyx’s face,” he said, with a laugh. “He was rather upset.”

He chuckled. “What can I help you with?”

Ienzo took a breath. “We’re trying not to avoid the past anymore,” he said softly. “I have written… something of a memoir. I wonder if you might like to read it.”

“You’d be willing to share such dark content of your heart, when you’ve been given a clean start?”

“It has been necessary, to begin to heal,” Ienzo admitted. “I know you’ve forgiven me. But you deserve to know the truth.”

Ansem took the manuscript with a sigh. “Yes,” he said softly. “I know we’ve touched upon things in our conversations.”

“I’m afraid for a time I held bitterness towards you--despite none of that being your fault.” He knotted his hands. 

“You were lied to and gaslit for many years. Of course that will take work to unravel.” Ansem took his hand. “But we are both willing to be better, and to make change.”

“...Quite.” Ienzo bobbed his head once. “Though those twelve years seem very, very long.”

“Yes… I rather missed most of your childhood.” He frowned. “It is something I think about with alarming frequency. I tried for--what must have been the equivalent of years to get to you. But once I finally escaped--a thing only done by succumbing to the darkness--said darkness turned the last remaining tender pieces of my heart to stone. I thought you were a monster.”

Ienzo swallowed.

“I know the situation was more complex than that, because not only were you a product of your environment, I acted rather monstrously as well. Seeing you again… Your heart has changed everything. It has brought you back to me. I just hope I can watch you grow.”

“What of your own life?”

Ansem laughed. “I do have many things to make up for, and much to do,” he admitted. “But having my family back is enough.”

When Ienzo left that room he felt lighter. Realer, more present. Not just hopeful, but energized for the work ahead. It was going to be a long road to atonement, but he felt ready.

All he had to do was take the first step.


End file.
